#I would 100% romance both my companions if I could | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fireboltcrystal · 1 month ago

Text

The Mishandling of Varric Tethras

How Dragon Age: The Veilguard utilized a fan favorite, only for the worst....

Just a little bit more salt. I wasn’t initially going to post anything else, but I kept thinking about all the things that have frustrated me about vg. & the one that just keeps driving me insane, is how Bioware treated and used Varric in The Veilguard. I just wanted to expand/rant a little more about my disappointment and disgust. Both in what was done to Varric and how it shows off the cracks in vg’s understanding (lack) of characterization.

WARING, SALT, BASIC CRITIQUE, WITH BIOWARE/VG BASHING + IT’S LONGER THAN I INTENDED, SORRY)

For consideration; first I admit fully I did not play The Veilguard, I watched a friend who is also a fan, play the game from beginning to end, alongside watching others live-stream the game. Re-watching clips and reading story summaries for clarification.

I’m not a lore expert by any means, I will occasionally investigate other parts of the series for fun. But I mostly know about the series from playing the games. Extend universe is fun but should not be necessary. Plus, I should not have to pay potentially $100+ for a game and its extended universe of comics and novels, just to talk about my opinion on disappointing story aspects.

Second, I’m not a professional or semi-professional writer. So, pardon for any mistakes.

Third, Varric Tethras is my favorite character of the Dragon Age series. My bias will be on full display.

Does this all mater, no but I want to be honest just in case other fans find this and think I am trying to ‘stir the pot’ and make people who were somehow able to enjoy vg sad.

Truthfully, I do not care if anyone reads this. I just needed to compartmentalize my feelings beyond trying to only ignore and move on. Also, if you do not like Varric, fine but please don’t waste your time commenting on how you hate him. It is annoying and pointless. I do not care, have a nice day, anyways.

Character Background:

(feel free to skip to the next part, if you don’t want a refresher)

From the song 'Companions',

Varric charms with clever words

Vender of exotic goods

Writer of salacious books

A rogue, a dwarf with ragged looks

Varric Tethras is the rouge, dwarven companion of da2 and dai. Second son and first of his family to be born on the surface. Scion of House Tethras, which once held prominence in the underground kingdom of Orzammar. Which now resides in the Free Marches, city state of Kirkwall after scandal had the family banished. Though Varric does not come off as really interested in the traditions of his family’s homeland or following heavily in the faith of ‘The Stone’.

He is ironically a deeply ‘human’ character; as cunning as he is compassionate. A merchant prince with a decent ‘spy network’ (though has a difficult time not being worried about his agents). Known for wielding his signature crossbow, named Bianca; he clashes with his elder brother Bartrand and the Dwarven Merchants guild and holds a substantial tab at the “The Hanged Man” tavern. He also to extent is Andrastian, though not as pious that is traditionally acceptable. He frames it more so as enjoying an ‘great story’. But he does speak on the life of prophet, Andraste with far more understanding than even some of the most faithful characters can. Could it just be storytellers’ intuition or maybe more…

Segway into the fact that he is also a serial novelist, who writes everything from crime dramas, epics, to romances novels. He is a deeply ‘romantic’ person, loyal to friends and those he loves, at a times to a fault. Varric is a self-described liar but it never feels deeply malicious. Only as way of obfuscating when dealing with painful memories, hiding info to protect his friends from and to optimally fuck with the Chantry. His friendship with Hawke, is so close to point that he was willing to lie to the Chantry guard, and put his life and freedom on the line to protect them.

Another major example would be in his tempestuous relationship, with Bianca Davri; a dwarven engineer of tremendous skill. Though we do not get all the details as it is part of the Bianca, the crossbows naming, ‘the one story he will never tell’.

What we do get is a very complicated affair. Were the two honestly should and in some parts have already moved on from each other. It is mature, messy, and shows a flaw in his character; that though he lives in the present, he can be weighed down by his past mistakes.

Game-wise, in da2 he is the unreliable narrator for the story of Hawke and a rouge companion. As his background as a storyteller, he spins a yarn to Seeker Casandra Pentaghast, about the Champion of Kirkwall. Along with has a part in the main quest that ties into his relationship and ultimate the fate of his brother, Bartand. He can potentially become either a best friend or a rival to Hawke.

In dai he is again a rouge companion, initially ‘arrested’ by the Chantry, he joins the Inquisition to help save Thedas. He has a substantial role in the story; he acts as a re-introduction to Hawke (and can affected by their potential fate later in the story) and the main antagonist, Corypheus (featured in da2 dlc). Along with he is a first-hand witness to the dangers and damage red lyrium can cause. This also includes a connecting quest to destroy lyruim deposits, to which we can even finally meet the mysterious Bianca herself. He can become another friend with high approval or he can become disillusioned with the Inquisitor if low.

In Trespasser/post-game, we learn that he has been chosen to become the Viscount of Kirkwall and though the job drives him nuts; he shows a genuine zeal for the position. In the both the power he utilizes to make genuine changes for the city that he loves and to abuse it, as an excuse to give his friends ‘free shit’. Including bestowing the Inquisitor a title, estate, and key to the city (or mechanism to control the giant-ass chains lol).

Quick moment of positivity before vg proper, I will say I think Varric’s new design works for an older interpretation of the marksman. He has his fundamental details, the leather coat, ring necklace, obvious flash of chest hair and of course crossbow Bianca. But the new additions like the Inquisition belt buckle and the three, crossed facial scars are nice touches to his look. Minor criticism, a little confused at hair color change, but hair can turn darker as one ages, and the gray does look great on him. A little less okay with is the beard, in part since Varric known to be indifferent to the traditions of Orzammar, like having a longer beard. Prior games his face is shaven or with very faint scruff. But I can also see it as him leaving it to the way side during the hunt for Solas. Also, he is missing his three earrings, Bioware what did you do with the man’s jewelry!

VG Prologue:

Varric’s introduction in the game starts at the beginning of new protagonists Rook. In a nameless bar in Minathous. Rook can choose to react with wordplay or violence. After which Varric, chilling out in corner (which he should, let that old dwarven man rest!) comments on how Rook handled themselves in the standoff/scuffle and how they are his second in command (woof sheesh, tough break Harding). Without any time to spare they are off to find their contact.

Fist off: The bond that Rook and Varric have; is that there's kinda isn't. Normally a player is introduced to character and we naturally grow interest with them, through game play and conversation.

But in vg there is no built up, it’s all a preset relationship. “I know your can do this, you’re the best, Kid,” blah blah. Other than a few half-baked dialogue choices that pretty amount to nothing. There is no moment to talk with him, ask him questions beyond getting the main story into motion (all go, go, go find this person, here, that, there & etc.).

Something separate I bring up, not only to Varric and Rooks ‘relationship’. But an issue that I could have actually help (a little bit) of vg’s starting issues.

Why the fuck are the devs. so terrified of the original Origins.

Because this is the game that probably needed those kinds of intros back, more than ever. Be it for players returning (or first introductions) to the world of Thedas. & no, the half-baked, faction summaries are not enough when most of them barely factor into how you build and detail out your background. Some factions like the Shadow Dragons get just a few scraps to role-play or as everyone I have seen and spoken to has said that the Lord of Fortunes might as well have been cut completely, there is so little.

It feels so hollow to have hardly any dialogue choices to help flesh out Rook as a different character. Instead, they are a carbon copy personality dumpster fire, bland in a way a single-cell hero could be. Quippy and Inhuman.

Now back to Varric; how in the world do they know each other, why did they join in with the Inquisition or what remained of it, how did Varric end up deciding on a chess themed nickname, all these question & more could have been answered with a character Origin! *hooray* (Wow, look at that!)

In this have Varric play the role of recruiter like Duncan. He will meet the players, intro into combat, have quick convos on what the hell is going on, speak to the people and to show off a part of the world.

But in this case to create the foundational bond between the new player character and now mentor, Varric. So that if there are any dramas moments, the player will actually feel, if or when an npc is in peril…

But instead, the dev. team opted to just simply have Varric already know Rook, no build up required. Just a pre-established association with no real input from the player. Which creates a disconnect, new players are not going to automatically know who the hell Varric is. Most will just roll with it, so to finally get to the game proper, but it will not add up down the line…

For returning players, the writers did something kind of nasty on reflection; they used our nostalgia to do the heavy lifting of character development. We do not get to know Varric as a new person, just as extended cameo (which happens to other characters in vg). That one we are only able to understand because of playing the previous games, who though had their own development woes, still had developers with their priorities straight when creating them, its world, and its characters.

So if you are not a fan or feel neutral about Varric. Rook has a casual-esq working relationship with him. Clean, bland, sanitized (like the rest of the game).

But if you are a fan of him, it ends up feeling like an old friend you have lost contact with and now you have become different person (literally) but with the nostalgia strangling you. Varric feels slightly the same, but older, exhausted and one who’s writers should have let gently retire years ago…

It feels sad and lackluster in comparison to how full and interesting his prior introductions were.

Da2 had two Varric intros; first with his arrest and interrogation, he becomes the narrator of the game, though under distress. It creates mystery, why is this guy being dragged around though a dungeon, what has he done, does he know something, or maybe someone…

But in-game proper, after Hawke’s failed meeting with Bartrand. Varric stops a pickpocket from running off with Hawke’s stolen coin purse, he lands a bolt into the thief, taking back the money, punching them out for the trouble and returning the coins with a flourish. They talk about his brother and their plans to venture into the Deep Roads for fame, glory but money for profit.

You get a little taste of both points, Varric brought low and also at the top of his game.

In dai slightly similar but without the framing device, Varric is fighting alongside Solas (oh we will get to you). & after sealing the tear, Varric introduces himself, there is even a dialogue choice where he compares himself to us as we are both technically prisoners to the Chantry, though his arrest by Cassandra is kind of null after the explosion. It helps build a link between him and the prisoner, later Inquisitor. For new players, you get to see peak Varric charm. But also perfect for old players ready to bond with him again, after so long and to a forge a connection with a brand-new protag.

With this we not only see that Varric still has his wicked charm, but that others also react to it, Solas chuckles (heh) with a snide remark, when we say we are pleased to meet him and Cassandra’s frustration at his arrogant charisma is so endearing, for both characters. (Cassandra and Varric, have genuinely some of the best character interactions of the entire series, I will fight anyone on that).

Moving ahead since more of the dialogue after meeting Harding and Neve, is mainly, taking about state of Minrathous and needing to stop Solas. We reach the ritual site in the Arlathan forest... Before confronting the Dreadwolf, can either choose to support or convince against Varric talking Solas down. Regardless of choice, he still goes on head.

Varric is a man whose friends have become his family. He feels that he must try at the very least talk with Solas. Though it does go against his reactions to Solas being an agent of Fen'Harel; back in Trespasser (but I think the team kind of forgot most of the character motivations they established…).

Regardless Varric confronts Solas while the team try to stop the ritual and hold off the demons. Though I hate the result, I kind of liked the scene at first, Varric’s cheeky grin calling Solas, ‘Chuckles’ was a great touch. Especially since the two did have slight back and forth friendship in dai.

& the reaction Solas has when he sees Varric is excellent, first annoyance at who would dare distract him, then shock with a little bit of sadness when it sees who it is, but then returns into haughty determination.

But I think this is indicative how better the characters of the prior games and the weight of established relationships are from this scene. Like if Veilguard is your first game in the series, this entire scene means practically nothing other than, a super intense moment between ex-friends (where the world is at stake).

But gravitas of these two characters, the performances of their actors and the tiny shred of decent writing. Probably tricks a lot of newcomers into thinking this will be a far deeper story than it actually is…

So, after a back-and-forth, Solas will not see reason and Varric aims Bianca and Solas destroys the crossbow (I’m still devastated at the loss of such an iconic weapon). During which the ritual is disrupted, Varric attempts to stop it further by attempting to grab the ritual dagger from Solas’s, in turn Solas stabs Varric. He falls, and we are uncertain of his fate. Ancient elves Ghilan'nain and Elgar'nan escape the fade and Rook loses consciousness.

The Rest of the Game:

After the ritual Rook awakens in the Lighthouse, to see a bandaged-up Varric. He looks awful and is noticeably in pain. But something is bizarre, something doesn’t seem right, his tone is off, it’s unnatural.

Other companions, seem to speak or react to him. I kept thinking why doesn't any look at him. No scenes of characters visiting him, to see how he's feeling. Nothing.

Let me tell you before I learned the truth, I was so fucking relieved to see he was alive. After all the dodgy trailers, on which Bianca being destroyed. I was just so happy to see him alive, that I didn’t see the signs. I thought maybe we would check in on him over time and watch him heal. Maybe there would be point before the end where we see him hang up his leather duster and return to Kirkwall as Viscount accepting that his adventuring days are at end. & in turn pass on the mantle of leadership to this current party. For Rook to step out and up as the new protagonist… But we will get to the full truth later.

So from now till the end Varric has two functions in vg: narrator again, but without the same wit or gravitas of da2.

& sort of back seat hype man, he is mainly resting in a dark corner of the new base, the Lighthouse. His conversations are essentially recaps of main quests, occasional references to the prior games, what the dev. team must have thought were oh so clever hints to Varric’s death (as clever as a cinder block) and then pseudo-HR training about how “Rook is the leader, and you are a part of team, and you got to work together,” yada yada…

Ultimately meaningless moments, awkward and stilled, hamstrung by vg’s blunt force repetitive dialogue.

Now to his final part in this story, close to end game Rook is trapped in a fade prison by Solas (who fell for the dumbest trick, who also can be tricked in return, wtf) they are confronted by companion(s) that were killed during a prior quest.

And here is the big revel, that Varric had died after being stabbed by Solas at the beginning of the game.

The real Varric died at the ritual site…

So, anytime that Rook spoke to him, it was not actually Varric the man, the dwarf, the living person.

Honestly, I do not know entirely what was talking to Rook.

At first, I thought he was illusion created by Solas to fuck with Rook. Maybe a shade made from a spirit (like dai where a spirit &/or Divine Justinia helps the Inquisitor). Or more likely a figment created by Rook from their repressed grief after Varric was murdered. (Honestly this is all embarrassing, like who ever wrote this, along with anyone else who let it go to print should be ashamed of themselves and then fire their therapist...)

They have an awkward come to Jesus’ moment about accepting grief (um, ok) and a stilted, rushed good bye.

(Oh and there is one moment right before the end credits where Varric appears in the clouds like he’s Mufasa or something idk; just a final slap in face before game ushers you out the door.)

Final Feelings and Frustrations:

So most of his inclusion of the game was not even but a hallucination, a mere idealistic interpretation of him, always supportive, always accepting, and empty.

A fandoms interpretation, a wasteful dev. teams idea.

Used as ‘character development’ for a mediocre protagonist.

Rook is as heroic as wet rag and as interesting as a rubber dumbbell.

What a tragic waste of one of the series most iconic characters…

Varric being killed off and used a lesson in accepting grief, was one of the most meaningless acts of literal character assassination and emotional manipulation I have ever seen a team of writers pull in some fucking time.

I would not be surprised if that was Bioware's excuse for not wanting to write anything more complicated or interesting. That they only did it for a cheap cameo and had Varric be a sacrificial lamb to create ‘tension’ between Rook and Solas.

Which can I just say for a dev. team as notoriously ‘chronically online’, the fact that they couldn’t see how a loud subset of the fandom, who are willing to forgive literally any if not all of Solas’s actions, including being involved in the death Varric, another fan favorite, is cosmically laughable.

Solas’s could turn an entire box of puppies to stone and he would be forgiven at large; esp. if it was framed as him doing it for the sake of the Elvhenan. Like please be real Bioware, you made a sympathetic villain. Fucking own up to it, you guys could not have been this delusional (though your interviews do say otherwise).

It is sooo bizarre, like does this current team even like these characters (the series even), supposedly in the development in the prior games, Varric was constantly being talked about like his time was up (like why, you made him a charming fella, what are players supposed to do, not want to friends with the guy!). They even had very early ideas for a dlc where you could romance him (I will morn this loss forever), but that he would potentially die at the end… (fml)

Hell, even Solas in this game; that was once titled as ‘Dreadwolf’. has this constant feeling from the writing that the team both adores him but also fucking hates him. Like, “Please keep talking bald elf man you have so many fans willing to pay full retail price; but also shut the hell up and begone to the shadow dimension!”

I mean, I am not a huge fan of Solas personally, but I am genuinely surprised at how many of his actual fans could be okay with Bioware’s meager crumbs. (idk toxic positivity, maybe sunk cost fallacy)

Like at one point this guy was THE main antagonist and beyond! Elven spies, manipulating nations, sowing discord to the create the perfect environment to tear down the Veil! But nope, just nothing really. Stuck in the Fade, being a big sad boy.

Strikingly bland here, esp. in comparison to the real intensity brought forth at the end of Trespasser.

[Bonus: After her threat in dai, I would not be surprised if Bianca found a way of going into the fade just so she could beat the ever-loving shit out of Solas (and all Inquisitors) for getting Varric killed.]

An Idea for a Thematic Polarity:

Of clinging to the nostalgic past, how to accept a conflicted present & to move forward into an uncertain future.

Solas is a person fixated on the ideal of a post-Elvenuris past. A past that never actually came to be and desires to bring it to fruition, even if means potentially destroying world. He even dissociates from the people of the ‘Dragon Age’ because, he cannot visualize them a fully fledge people. This can change, but he still goes for it. He knows there will untold death and destruction, but refuses to let go of the world before. In a better written story, he could’ve still becoming one with the Veil. After further being confronted by the reality that you cannot return the past, not like it once was. But let go for the sake of protecting those who live here and now, to go on, learn the past and make a better world for everyone.

Varric also clings to the past; even his place as a storyteller is him dramatizing, sensationalizing events, real or otherwise. He glosses over painful memories, adjusts for the audience (but mostly himself). But he is also a man who has not abandoned the present or even the future. He lives still gathering info. for his next bestseller. He is deeply conserved for the living; friends, citizens of Kirkwall and beyond. And if there is nothing to be done, we might as well take a break for now and play a round of Wicked Grace.

The team could have done things much different in the finale to Varric. They could have Varric be (actually) injured during the ritual. After which he decides to retire, he is not getting any younger and returns to Kirkwall as Viscount. Passing the torch to the next generation of heroes and storytellers.

He has sort of given up on Solas, not his friend, (he will always care about his friends) but in the hunting of the Dreadwolf, the two Elven ‘gods’ and their double-Bight. He could continue working to make Kirkwall into a bastion of the Free Marches, improving the lives of the citizens and the city he takes so much pride in.

(well ignoring the destruction of Southern Thedas, god so pointless and vindictive on the part of the devs…)

He could have still been the narrator but from a tangible distance. Only retelling it from second hand accounts, etc.

Or maybe just a lore drop, a supportive letter that finds it's way to Rook with some words of encouragement.

But all that is for head-cannons, fanfictions and fan art.

So with that, moving forward I think I am going to be a little of both, I will go into the future, beyond the disappointments of Bioware and The Veilguard. To different studios and new series.

But I will still continue to always love and enjoy, Varric Tethras and the Dragon Age Trilogy.

Thank you very much, either to the void or to any one for taking the time to read this mess.

#dragon age critical #dragon age critique #veilguard critical #datv critical #bioware critical #dragon age #dragon age the veilguard #dragon age spoilers #veilguard spoilers #varric tethras

51 notes · View notes

janearts · 1 year ago

Note

Loved reading your thoughts for Roisia's companion quest! Do you have any thoughts on how Roisia would resolve the situation with her father while she is the protagonist? Would one of her companions (like Wyll or Karlach, perhaps) notice that her father is unhappy as he is and remark on it, which could help sway her in one or another direction? Or are you just letting all of the possible resolutions live as nebulously-canon at this point? (I'd be so curious to know how she'd feel about the Avatar of Kelemvor asking her to kill Astarion who she romanced, were she put in that situation.)

[The ask refers to these thoughts on Roisia as a companion.]

Thank you!! I'm glad you enjoyed it. I've answered your questions below the read-more.

Do you have any thoughts on how Roisia would resolve the situation with her father while she is the protagonist?

Roisia would be oblivious to the fact that her father is deeply unhappy with the current state of affairs. Roisia is too fixated on the fact that he's here again and she gets to have more time with her father (her gain) than on the fact that his life in the here and now is fundamentally different from how it used to be (his loss).

Unfortunately, Roisia would not resolve the situation with her father because she's not aware there is a situation to be resolved.

Would one of her companions (like Wyll or Karlach, perhaps) notice that her father is unhappy as he is and remark on it, which could help sway her in one or another direction?

I thought that Wyll would gravitate to Roisia's mother since they're both monster hunters or Yasmin was at one point anyway. (Yasmin can show him the trophy room!) I see the same thing happening with Karlach. I thought that Shadowheart or Halsin would be more intuitive when it came to Jairus, but I also considered that Astarion might clue in as well as an "undead creature" himself. I don't know if any of them would remark on it to Roisia, however. If they did, my concern would be that Roisia would persist in the belief that the solution to her father's unhappiness is the true restoration of flesh and bone rather than asking him if he would prefer a merciful death at this point.

Or are you just letting all of the possible resolutions live as nebulously-canon at this point?

100%. As far as I'm concerned, all of the resolutions I outlined are possible, but none of the resolutions are canon. (Or they're nebulously-canon as you've said.) I scripted what I thought could happen if Larian were to say, "Hey, I need you to write a companion quest for Roisia that has a beginning, middle, and an end." But as an artist outside of that hypothetical scenario, I definitely like to live in the middle of the story.

(I'd be so curious to know how she'd feel about the Avatar of Kelemvor asking her to kill Astarion who she romanced, were she put in that situation.)

By my own fictional parameters, I played a game in which I encouraged Roisia to pursue Necromancy, which means that she is deeply, deeply familiar with the spark of humanity that lies within the undead. She has tried to wheedle information out of Withers, reunited Mayrina with her undead husband, freed Thrumbo and his zombie compatriots from their mummy lord, she's talked with ghouls and ghasts, and has freed Astarion from his vampire master.

So even if she hadn't romanced Astarion, she would still deny the Avatar of Kelemvor because the undead aren't just glorified field experiments to her, they're fully-fledged people in their own right, worthy of care and having a voice in their own destiny.

The fact that she romanced Astarion just adds angst to the picture because she would be asked to choose between two [undead] people whom she loves very dearly. She so very badly wants to restore her father to how he was when he was alive and a part of her still wants to be a Cleric of Kelemvor, but she wouldn't be able to bring herself to kill Astarion. (Which he knew. Of course. Naturally. Didn't have a single doubt or a flicker of fear in his mind at all.)

#Baldur's Gate 3 #BG3 #BG3 AU #BG3 Roisia #Astarion #Astarion Ancunin #BG3 Spoilers #Act III Spoilers

282 notes · View notes

dseerie · 2 months ago

Text

My Thoughts On Why Astarion Acts The Way He Does

While I'm waiting for Baldur's Gate 3's cloud status to upload, I've been thinking. I've seen a lot on social media about people questioning why Astarion disapproves when your character wants to save the gnomes (since they are also under an abusive master) or assisting the refugees and how he is always wanting a reward instead of just doing something nice for the sake of it. And I've talked with people who have helped me put this into better words. At least I hope. So I wanted to explain my perspective as someone who was abused when a kid/teen/even early adult.

I fought my abusers whenever I could, figuring if it was going to happen, I'd piss them off, which was satisfying. But if someone started issues with a different authority figure, it annoyed me quite a bit because then I have another problem. And what if my abusers found out I was involved when I wasn't because someone I was with was upsetting the authority figure? It would become just one more issue I had to deal with. Too many details and nuances to keep track of when my mind needed to focus on the first problem. It made sense to stay on the good side of authority figures to keep myself safe and avoid trouble.

For me, something had to be worth doing or my mind just went back to worrying about sh*t, back to the fight or flight survival response. I needed that reward dopamine. Getting praises wasn't doing it for me, since I would forget the good because of the bad. Trauma brain is funny like that. I needed something physical and worthwhile to make me happy.

It's the reason why Astarion is my favorite character that I connected with the most. Not because of his beauty (not that he isn't an elegant elven man. Just that it wasn't what got me to like him. I'd lean more toward Gale or Wyll if it was by appearance for the male companions, though seeing Astarion half-naked with abs was a real shocker. I seriously thought he was a skinny elf 😳), but because he reminds me so much of how I was and how my thought-process worked. How I kept people away by being rude just enough without them wondering if they should say something to my abusers. Because no matter how many times I told people outright I was being abused early on, no one helped, only tattle-told on me.

And I haven't even completed a playthrough yet. I only just got to the Elfsong before starting a Durge playthrough. First playthrough was an asexual Tav to get to know the characters and storyline (I kid you not, I made my Tav a Charlatan rogue then discovered Astarion was also a Charlatan rogue when I was in the forge 😂). As I got to know them a bit more, Astarion intrigued me the most and when Patch 7 came out, I decided to play a Durge Romance. The first Durge both traumatized me up to Act 2 and made me adore and respect Astarion even more. So yeah, I'm romancing him on this Modded Durge Romance playthrough despite Gale having an interest in me, who is the male companion I would connect with if Astarion wasn't a companion (I'm literally just starting the Underdark area and Gale is already at 100 approval while Astarion is at 79 approval. I wish I had a library, I do have a cat, and I love me some white or pink wine 😋).

This is what my perspective of why Astarion acts the way he does. He's not bad, per say. What happened to him for 200 years has made him what he is. Nobody can fix someone else, but they can be guided to help fix themselves. I've been working to fix myself since I got out of the situation. And I want to be the one to guide Astarion toward fixing himself.

Both Neil Newbon and Stephen Rooney (primary writer) did a freakin' incredible job in bringing Astarion to life and making him so believable to the point he has helped many to realize what they went through and improve themselves. Bravo, good sirs! Thank you so much!

If I think of more, I'll see about adding. For now, thank you for reading. I hope you have a great day. 😊

#astarion #baldursgate3 #bg3 #playthrough #gale #astarion ancunin #neil newbon #stephen rooney #Abuse #Tav #Durge #Charlatan #Rogue

25 notes · View notes

quitealotofsodapop · 1 year ago

Text

JTTW-era Stone Egg part 2:

referencing this previous post about the Pilgrims reacting to the knowledge that au!Wukong is having a baby and has a missing mate.

Ao Lie is a real bro; he figured out Wukong was a having a kid based on his dragon/horse nose, and decides to support him 100% no matter his choice at the end of the day. The fact that he suspects its an asexually-produced Stone Egg that could kill his new buddy is something Ao Lie is keeping quiet about until Wukong himself is comfortable sharing it.

Ao Lie, after Bajie accuses him of having a crush on Wukong: "Ew no! He most certainly has a mate awaiting his return - I wouldn't dare dishonor a married demon!" Wukong, brightly playing along: "Yeah, piglet! Plus, no one will ever measure up to my Mihou!" Ao Lie, confused whinny: "Excuse me, what?" Wukong, tail curling into a heart: "The strongest, most clever monkey on Flower Fruit Mountain - my equal in all including on the battlefield. <3"

The rest of the gang are pleasantly surprised... and outraged to learn that their pregnant companion has a mate that up and left him while he was pregnant. Whomever this "Macaque" figure is, the Pilgrims gonna have a stern talk with him when they find him.

Except maybe the two former-celestials;

Bajie is just like: "Wait, did you just say this Macaque guy was your equal in battle!?" Wukong, wistful sigh: "Yeah..." Zhu Bajie & Sha Wujing: *share equally terrified looks*

Maybe they'll need to devise an attack strategy before confronting this guy head on. Ao Lie loudly states that he's gonna kick the guy if he sees him first.

Tripitaka meanwhile has to mentally wrap his head around the idea of two men marrying before he can process that *Sun Wukong* is married. The Confuscist / Buddhist attitudes at the time said "Girls have Karma Cooties"; so it was considered normal for men to "prefer other men's company" but it was still super-illegal. Being raised in a sheltered, likely all-male, monastery also adds in extra confusion for the monk. Not to mention his own asexuality.

Tripitaka: "Is it... acceptable for a man to love another man like one would a woman?" Zhu Bajie: "Only if they're into it." Tripitaka: "Wha...?"

Eventually he ends up asking the boddhisattvas and different gods for their opinions;

Tripitaka: "Is it normal amongst those in the Celestial Realm for men to... have thoughts of romance for other men?" Erlang: "Oh diyu, yeah! It's totally normal! We even have Tu'er Shen - he's the rabbit god of homosexual love!" Tripitaka, pleasantly surprised: "Oh! That's interesting - but is it accepted?" Erlang & the Plum Hill Lads: *share a footballer's huddle, whispering intensely* Erlang: "Ehhh... just don't bring it up around my uncle. He's kinda weird about it." Triptiaka, a little heartbroken: "Oh..."

Best advice comes from Guanyin herself ofc;

Guanyin: "I'm am composed of multiple energies, Tang Monk. Although I do not experience romantic feelings like say, Chang'e and Hou Yi, I know for a fact that the buddha does not judge those for whom they love - even if their fellow man do so." Tripitaka: *delighted smile!* Tripitaka, remembering why he asked: *fatherly instincts activate* "I'm going to kill that Liu'er Mihou for breaking my student's heart!"

In the Jttw Stone Egged au where Macaque lives, Tripitaka is the only one to get a solid punch in before Wukong calls the gang off.

Angst and canonical death tw under Read More;

Zhu Bajie ultimately starts out as a huge a-hole, and the Journey makes him a little less of a jerk. One huge change Wukong noticed in his bro's behavior was around the time... he lost Macaque.

Especially in the Slow Boiled au.

Bajie would walk up to Wukong like he did many time when he tried stealing his snacks or to poke fun at him... only to sit down next to the monkey watches the moon together. Both longing.

Zhu Bajie: "You know... I wasn't lying when I said I was cursed to suffer many heartbreaks... I know what it looks like from a mile away." Wukong: *says nothing, hiding face in his arms and knees* Zhu Bajie: "You really loved that guy, huh?" Wukong: *nods, face still hidden* Zhu Bajie, confidently: "...you'll see him again. Maybe not in this lifetime, but you will." Wukong, uncharacteristically quiet: "Thanks..." Zhu Bajie: "No problem."

The pig is noticeably easier on Wukong after that day. And maybe a little more appriciative of the time he had with Culian... he's experienced enough bad love-lifes to figure out how to make things work. Maybe after the Journey is over, he'll give her a call?

He does really hope his Eldest Brother and his mate reunite in the future... even if it means in the Diyu.

138 notes · View notes

rubyvroom · 5 months ago

Text

BG3: the first playthrough

Because I always do my first playthrough of a game blind (unless I get completely 100% stuck, no guides) I have no idea how good/bad my worldstate is in BG3. But since I have not managed to romance* anyone I consider it a failure and I'm already planning my next playthrough. But since I've finally reached Baldur's Gate I'm going to play it out and see what kind of crazy result I'm going to get on my own.

I'm on a goody-two-shoes Paladin playthrough so it's probably pretty typical, but she's also a vengence paladin and a high persuader/deceptive so that keeps things lively

Good? Points? Maybe? Reformed Shadowheart away from Shar. Opposed the queen Gith and Lae'zel supports Orpheus now. Recruited Halsin and saved the nature kid. Rescued Tieflings from Moonlight Tower before I did Shar's Gauntlet. Isobel and Nightsong are hanging out in camp making heart eyes at each other and I keep trying to get in on that action

Bad? Things? Missed rescuing anyone from the fire in Act One. Some of the Tieflings died when I rescued them from the tower and others are mad at me. Could not figure out how to work the forge or do the brain puzzle. Did not rescue Zevlor or Mol or Will's Father. Killed Orthon. Jaheira is dead (big oops). Buddies with Emperor, don't know if that's a good idea. I'm half squid and I don't like what it did to Vez's face. Gale is also half squid. Realistically he was the only companion I could imagine doing it without being bullied into it. But I also bullied him into it. XD

Am currently looking for Astarion's vampire lord, not sure if I will encourage him to ascend or not. Would like to free Orpheus but my buddy Emperor will not like that. I let this kid into my camp but she is maybe a murder shapeshifter? Will do everything possible to save my BFF Karlach and find Shadowheart's parents and burninate the elder brain. Let's go endgame

*Was TRYING to romance Karlach and turned down everyone else trying to get with her, but it turns out I recruited her too late and got locked out. I did manage to get both Astarion and Halsin to visit the Drow twins with me, which was exciting at first, but kind of a bummer in practice.

#bg3 #rubyvroom plays video games

9 notes · View notes

sorcerous-caress · 1 year ago

Note

I played human Tav/Durge and realized that there are so much angst opportunities there. Probably mostly angst 😭. Like most of the companion in our camp will outlive us (except Gale and perhap Wyll but Gale is a powerful wizard so he probably figure something for us both).

I romanced Minthara, she’s a drow—will outlive her human lover for several century if not thousands

Even in my Tav campaign, I romanced Lae’zel who also will outlive us due to astral sea and what not

What a painful reality for nonhumans who date humans

— RED anon

Screenshot from this post

Gale and Wyll would have the same lifespan as human Tav

Shadowheart is 40 when we meet her, which leaves 140 years. I mean it feels kinda similar enough to a human life span, yeah we'd be dead before she hits 100 but still.

Githyanki are basically healthy humans so i think we are set here. Karlach can be squeezed in the same category too but with her heart engine it depends if where the two of you will live.

Jaheira would probably pass away before us because she is above her 100 years now.

Astarion is a vampire, so he is basically immortal. Unless you get turned too, then probably yeah, full-on angst.

Halsin and Minthara are full elves and while Minthara seems much older, I don't think they're even halfway through their lifespans yet.

There are so many ways to alter your life span. If your character is durge or any god chosen / harbinger, then the said god can wave off death. It's what Mystra has been doing for Volo, so really we rescued him from the goblin camp for nothing.

I think it would be harder for them than us, at least we will die happily and loved in their arms while they'd suffer watching their human beloved die. Not to mention the years of mourning that come after.

It would hit Minthara the hardest, i think. Halsin has experienced love, actual love, many times before. But we are Minthara's first romantic lover.

Shadowheart will just mourn us in the remaining 40 years of her life, praying to seluna at our grave and bringing us flowers.

Karlach would visit the grave daily to tell us about her day, about how sometimes the urge to just go to the surface and let her engine send her to us is too much at times. But she knows we wouldn't approve of it, that we would've wanted for her to live. Even if hell is so much more unbearable for her without us by her side.

In different au's you could also argue that Gale ascending to godhood and making you his chosen would result in the both of you bypassing human mortality and becoming immortal.

#♡human reader #♡red anon #♡angst

27 notes · View notes

donutsupremacy · 1 year ago

Text

Cat-astrophe

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Summary

"When your frenemy Charlotte had discovered you were fired from Sumeru's news outlet and had moved to Fontaine to rid yourself of embarrassment, the pink haired female immediately dedicated an entire day to cheer you up. Little did you know, someone else would do a better job than her."

Warnings/Spoilers

Written during 4.1

100% Ooc moments

Flirting / Teasing

Love at first sight cliché trope

GN!Reader x Lyney

Reader is from Sumeru

Reader is NOT traveller

Reader has a cat (Mechanical cat if you're allergic to real cats)

100% Fluff this time

[C/N]= Cat's name

Shorter fic, kinda

Spoilers from Lyney's story quest (?)

Rizzing by yours truly

Reader may or may not have a vision (Irrelevant in the fic, it's up to your interpretation)

Reader needs a hat lol

Charlotte talks for like 6 paragraphs and magically disappears for another 30 paragraphs

A/N: This one's a little more random than the one I made for Thoma, but I couldn't resist not kaking a little oneshot for Lyney, he's precious ♡

I'm having semi-finals exams before my ACTUAL exams atm, so the SMAU is on hold until (Likely) 2024 January (This exams important) ;-;

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Your romance begins here

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

"Here! Try this!"

You let out a startled noise when the pink haired female suddenly placed a giant hat on your head, it tilts downwards, obscuring your vision. "Uh... th-this feels... a little too big." You let out an awkward laugh as you took the hat off, admiring the fabric and it's designs, but it wasn't your taste.

Charlotte sighed, taking the hat back from you. "C'mon... you've worn that hat ever since you joined Sumeru's news outlet. Isn't it time for some change?" She inquired, scanning the shelves for a hat that suited your appearance.

You chuckled as you glanced outside, ensuring your feline companion was still waiting patiently outside, it's eyes gazing at you with curiosity. You let out a snort, waving at your companion who began pawing at the shop's window. You could hear it meowing for your attention.

"Ohh... how about this one?" Once again, a hat— much larger than the last, completely obscures your vision once more. You yelped, before lifting the comically large hat off your head, raising a brow at the ridiculous size. "No?" The pink haired girl frowned, before groaning as she took the hat away from you and went straight back to searching for another one.

"Charlotte, this isn't necessary. I like my hat..." You quipped as you watched her scan through the rack of hats, tracing little shapes on the ground with your foot, feeling a little bored. "...Plus, most of these hats are ridiculously huge."

You've been rivals with her ever since you first met while travelling to Fontaine for an interview regarding the disappearing cases with young women. After discovering you were part of a news outlet in Sumeru, the both of you hit off and became friends— rivals when it came to work.

But after learning that you were fired for accidentally handing in an incomplete assignment (Which, she thought was a horrible reason to fire you for, you rarely made mistakes in your job), you had moved to Fontaine with your cat to rid yourself from embarrasment and apply to work for the news outlet there with Charlotte, she was ecstatic.

But of course, despite your reassurance that you weren't too affected after getting fired, she still wanted to 'cheer you up'. Obviously, she just wanted to hang out with you.

Now, here you are— dragged to a hat boutique by the cryo-wielding female along with your cat, who thought the hat you wore during your time working at Sumeru's news outlet should be removed for no apparent reason.

"Nonsense! You've been wearing that hat ever since the birth of The Seven!— Oh! Maybe we can wear the same hats!" Charlotte chirped, holding up a hat similar to the one on her head.

Without letting you protest, she plops it down on your head, a perfect fit. You chuckled, about to take it off, but eventually lowered your hand, she looked like a child getting praised when you left the hat on you.

"Eh... I guess this one's pretty good. What do you think, [C/N]?" You asked rhetorically with a light chuckle, turning wround to face your companion behind the window's glass.

It's gone.

Panic immediately settles in as adrenaline slowly coursed through your blood, lowering the hand and handing back to Charlotte who also realized your feline companion was now gone. "[C/N]?... [C-C/N]!?"

You tossed the hat back to Charlotte and sprang out of the boutique, looking around frantically for your companion who had disappeared. "[C/N]!?" You exclaimed, ignoring the few confused and worried looks you received from the citizens nearby.

"[Name]! W-Wait!" You ignored Charlotte's words as you began to ran, looking for [C/N] who couldn't have wandered off too far— it was just waiting outside the boutique 2 minutes ago!

As you kept on running while calling out to your feline companion, you hear the sound of applause nearby, briefly netting your attention.

A crowd of people had gathered by the side of the road, clapping with excitement and joy in their eyes as a young male voice sounded in the middle. "Now, take a look inside my hat, everyone. See how there's nothing inside? Pay attention now... blink and you may miss it— voila!" Out comes three doves flying out from the crowd, causing the spectators to erupt into another round of applause.

The sound of the dove's wings flapping in the air grew softer as they flew away, the only sound that briefly caught your attention was the melodious laughter of the same young man's voice. "Adieu, little doves!... Ah? What's this?"

At first, you shook your head, you couldn't afford to lose your cat in a whole city and get distracted by some guy with a nice voice, you couldn't even see him.

Until you heard that familiar meow you've been hearing for several years. "Why, hello there, little one! I see you've been attracted by those doves."

Without a doubt, that meow belongs to your cat. You approached the crowd, slipping past the spectators and uttering out apologies. Your mind was focus on the meowing as the crowd quietly murmured about your panic-stricken expression, concerned about what made you so anxious. The voice continues to speak. "What are you reaching for?... Oh! This feather from the doves? Of course you may have it!"

There it is— your cat, excitedly pawing at a feather in the hands of a young man with pale skin and mesmerising violet eyes, his ash blond hair pulled back into a braided style, a tear shaped mark on his right cheek. He was kneeling down next to your cat, lightly waving the feather with an amused and calm smile, his twinkling with endearment.

"[C/N]!" You immediately called out, bringing his attention as his eyes travelled to meet yours. Your cat's ears perked up, turning to see you before letting out a meow and running to your side.

It loops your leg, gazing up at you as it tilts it's head to the side, looking as innocent as ever. "You scared me half to death..." You sighed out as you squatted down, carrying your feline companion into your arms before standing back up, now facing the charming young man in front of you.

"Such a playful companion you have there." He chuckled, holding the feather and bringing it close to your cat. It's ears twitched, pawing at the feather as you grew aware of all eyes still on you. "I can tell neither of you are from Fontaine— it's a pleasure to meet you Mx...?"

"[Name]. My name is [Name]."

"[Name]. Welcome to Fontaine!" He greets, giving you a polite bow as he removes his top hat, bringing it to his chest. He takes your hand into his, pressing a light peck on your knuckles.

Your face grew warm as you held your cat in one arm, it didn't help when you heard teasing giggles from the crowd behind you. You shook out of your embarrasment, giving him a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry to have bothered you, monsieur...?"

"Lyney. You may just call me Lyney, there's no need to be so formal around me. We're all friends here, are we not?" He quipped, straightening back once more as he placed his hat back on his head. "I'm a magician in Fontaine, it's a pleasure to have a foreigner attend my little magic show on the streets. Even if the tricks i'm using are rather plain and simple."

You remembered Charlotte talking about a pair of siblings in her letters that were known to be famous magicians, rambling on and on about wanting to get their interviews from certain performances. "Pleasure's all mine, Lyney." You hummed, your cat purring in agreement. "I hope my cat didn't disturb your show too much..."

"Nonsense— if anything, it gave quite the show to the audience as well." Lyney reassured, reaching behind the ear of your cat. "Besides... you cat's a helpful little fella." Out comes a small, gorgeous flower, a Rainbow Rose to be exact, it's soft and silky pastel pink petals shining under the sun.

The audience let out soft gasps, your eyes widening in surprise, looking down at your cat who's ears perked up, using it's hind legs to scratch the area where the flower was pulled from. That was rather impressive. "Allow me to present you with a magic trick." The magician chirped, holding out the Rainbow Rose in his hand. He clears his throat, taking a small step back and holding the flower up high, speaking in a clear and confident tone.

"Please pay attention to this Rainbow Rose in my hand, 3... 2... 1."

The small audience erupts with gasps.

It vanishes with a flick of a wrist, as if it was a mere illusion that could be washed away with a simple swish of a hand, his nimble gloved fingers barely giving anyone a chance to see where it went. For a magic trick so 'simple and plain', you were impressed and amazed at how clean he initiated these tricks.

You hear the audience behind you murmuring amongst themselves, impressed and waiting in anticipation, the young children amongst the crowd spewing out questions on the flower's whereabouts.

"A magician never reveals their secrets." The blonde male awnsered, winking at you. His grin widened upon seeing the blush on your face only grow brighter.

He snaps his fingers. "Now, I invite all of you to check your clothing."

You hear everyone scrambling to check their clothing, the sound of fabric ruffling against one another, followed by murmurs of either disappointment or confusion.

You raised a hand, feeling something soft nestled onto your upper clothing. "Ah?" You moved your gaze down to see the Rainbow rose that was previously on Lyney's hand— now reappearing on the collar of your clothing.

Your cat meows as it plays with the silky, colourful petals of the flower. You let out a soft gasp as you plucked the Rainbow Rose off your clothing, holding it in your palm as the audience gave another round of applause at the small, yet, impressive trick Lyney did.

Lyney let out a soft chuckle as it strings into your ear, like a lulling melody composed by a soft tune and a gentle voice. "Ah— there it is! It seems you might be classified as a thief in Fontaine— a cute one to be exact."

Your cheeks flushed a deep red at his words, it didn't help that he he didn't stop there. He used both hands to cup the bottom yours that held the rose, his violet eyes locked with yours as he gave you a cheeky smile.

That damned smile...

Oh how it made your heart flutter so effortlessly.

"Now that begs the question; did you steal that Rainbow Rose— or did you use it as a distraction to steal my heart instead?"

"P-Pardon?" You stammered over your words, and he did not stop there.

"Now, that sort of crime earns you a place in the Meropide of Foretress— but even that place wouldn't dare house a bed for you, you're just far too cute and precious to be declared guilty in the first place." He chirped, using his free hand to take the rose away from your hands and going behind his back. With his other hand still holding the bottom yours, he tilts it, planting a gentle kiss on your knuckles.

Getting flirted in public by a charming young magician whom you had just met mere minutes ago while surrounded by a small audience was not what you expected after moving to Fontaine.

He lets out a hearty chuckle, his shoulders shaking lightly as the audience cooed at your flustered reaction, the rosy hue on your cheeks only flushing a brighter shade. What a... charming, yet, mischievous young man.

"A-Ah, uhm..." Your gaze diverts from his, rubbing the back of your nape with a free hand as you held your feline companion in your other hand— unsure of how to reply as your eyes subtly dart around the audience faces. Did this embarrassing little moment have to be carried out in public?

Sensing your slight discomfort, the corner of his cheeky grin falters, giving you a soft and apologetic smile for putting you on the spotlight for too long. "Well, that reminds me of another small trick!— Would you like to see another one? I call this..."

[Timeskip]

"Oh, thank the Archons— I've found you!" Charlotte's voice sounded from nearby, followed by the sound of boots rapidly clicking against the concrete pavement you stood next to while chatting with Lyney.

You turned around, almost dropping your cat when the pink haired female suddenly wrapped her arms around your torso. You yelped, your cat letting out a panicked meow as it leaps out of your arms as you were tackled to the ground, the pink haired female proceeding to lecture you for running off.

"Are you insane? You had me worried to death!" Charlotte huffs, narrowing her eyes as her brows furrowed with disappointment. "Do you have any idea on how huge the city of Fontaine is?— You could have stumbled upon something or someone dangerous, and I wouldn't even know where to begin searching for you! Just because the serial disappearances have stopped, doesn't mean you can just meander around all over the place without telling me!"

As you could only give her a sheepish smile and guiltily nod along to her lecturing, Lyney gently scooped your cat into his arms, he cooed quietly to your feline friend. "Your owner seems to be in a pickle, wouldn't you agree, [C/N]?"

You companion meows in response, it's nose twitching with curiosity as it lifts a paw to bat at Lyney's hat— a black cat's head with peculiar eyes and a sharp toothy grin emerging from beneath, gazing down at [C/N].

Your eyes averted from Charlotte to Lyney, watching as he handles two cats communicating with eachother through meows and occasionally gently batting eachother with their paws. He grins at their endearing curiosity, holding your companion with one hand and the other struggling to keep his hat in place.

The sound of Charlotte's yapping was muffled in your ears, your lips quirking into a fond smile, watching your curious companion having fun while the young magician was pampering it.

His eyes met yours, a calm, yet, cheeky smile appearing on his features, pale skin tinted in a faint rosy hue when you caught him in this little predicament. You were in no diffrent situation yourself.

He chuckled, his attention returning to the two cats playing with eachother, his voice reaching your ears and causing your heart to melt.

"...So, only a few days in Fontaine and you've already found yourself a crush, I see?"

Charlotte whispered close to your eyes, a brow raised as she watched the way your face flared up a bright shade of red, you leaned away from her and began stammering over your words while frantically wavings your hands, denying her words.

"H-Hey! That's not what this is all about!" You managed to stutter out, but the cryo-wielding female only scoffed at your denial.

"Come now, [Name]— I'm no detective, but you're giving heart eyes to Lyney! I could be blindfolded and see how you've fallen head over heels for him!... Hey... wait..." She trails off, her teal eyes suddenly sparkling with what seemed like inspiration and excitement.

You were about to call her name, thinking she might've fallen into some sort of trance— when you were met with Monsieur Verite, her camera, shoved into your face.

"Tell me, [Name]— Are you perhaps planning to court the young magician, Lyney? What are your methods? How will you react if he rejects or accepts you? Will you plan to—"

One question after another, she sends a barrage of ridiculous questions your way while keeping your face in shot of her camera. Was this really how Charlotte interviews people in Fontaine?

You're somewhat impressed and proud of her persistence... and slightly disappointed in this method at the same time.

"Come on! Just treat this as a sort of collab between co-workers! I'll share our pay in half! Just awnser a few words, please?" While you're busy trying to move out of the frame, she contonues directing the camera at you, determined to get a scoop about a foreigner and the famous magician's love life.

"...Well, I can't say I hadn't forseen Charlotte trying to strike up another scoop related to me, even if [Name] isn't my significant other..." Lyney quietly laughed under his breath, the cat underneath his hat and yours watching his reaction carefully. He winks at them, a small but genuine smile donning his face as he gazed back at you, eyes full of amusement and adoration.

"...Yet."

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin oneshots #genshin lyney #genshin impact lyney #genshin lyney x reader

34 notes · View notes

chevelleneech · 7 months ago

Note

"Because from the outside it seems like such a serious commitment when you think about how serious the military is."

Apart from jkkrs this is thef first time I'm seeing someone actually acknowledge the importance of the companion system and jm and jk using that for their military service. you might be jkk biased idk anything about you so...at the end it might be coming from a jkk bias at the end but i love that.

Don't get me wrong but when jkk's enlistmemt news hit the tl i saw only the same 3 big army accts talk about how big that is all others were busy making their typical tweets plus "how dare you separate vmin", "how dare you separate taekook", "return hobi his jm back" like okay i get the sentiment but where is anyone acknowledging the fact that jkk will be together? nowhere. saw few About jikook having jin to guide them but there was nothing specific for jkk ever acknowledged. but given the fandom's record it's nothing surprising how they hardly would acknowledge jikook's moments like that.

Idk how it looks from outside cause I'm quite a jkkr (not the one who belives they're dating cause i personally don't think so but yeah they're my bias) so for me it indeed seems important for them. if we look at all these yrs of jm providing comfort to jungkook, how jungkook would chose jm as the hyung that gives him comfort the most, and how jm would always say that he feels protected and comfortable around jungkook their decision makes sense. tbh the news was a shock to me cause i like other jkkrs always thought jm would enlist months before jk's MS so it was shocking. But if you know the history then it shouldn't surprise you.

Jkkrs say not even military can keep them apart and if you think then they haven't been apart from eachother for longer since the time the first met. not saying haven't been apart enjoying their time with other ppl cause they did but they somehow always want to be present in eachother's business lol. Even when they left the dorm jkk were one the members who left it last when some members left it early. This was the time where they definitely could have taken break from being around same ppl all the time yet they said nope.

They're also the only idols that come up when you search for "idols that have used Buddy program" so it is interesting. Other members do casually shows up here n there post things yet we Hardly hear from them both. willingly choosing to go to frontline because you're using buddy prgrm is also something. I'd rather let my fate decide where i land my training in sk than willingly go to the dangerous part of borders. but if i had the chance to do my MS with the person who is my emotional support and is my comfort I'll take it in a sec.

I don't think we'll ever get the proper in depth answer to the question, maybe they'll say that since they're the ones with tattoes they decided to go together. i mean even if tattoed there's many options open for them, far well than the frontline and as you said saying (them telling us) they needed most emotional support wont look good on them so i know they won't be too deep with their answer. They're too private like that.

Thanks for your beautiful posts.

Hello!

Just to put it out there, I am army, so I’m pretty deep in the trenches of Jikook. I don’t know if I think they’re dating with 100% certainty, but I am someone who doesn’t understand why people think it’s impossible. They grew up together, work together, and clearly really enjoy each other's company seemingly more than they do their other members. That obviously doesn’t equal romance, but acting like assuming they’re together is gross or ridiculous, it’s stupid. People date their friends and coworkers every single day. Celebrities more than anyone else, so why would presumed queer people be any different?

As for the rest, I’m glad you liked what I said! You also seem to be the only person who really got what I was trying to say. It’s clear JM and JK care deeply for each other and find comfort in one another, so them choosing the buddy system makes sense on the surface, but it doesn’t really explain anything. Which they aren’t obligated to do, but them making such a choice is a big deal when they had other options. So why make such a serious choice? What was the catalyst, when their friendships with other members are equally as important to them? What was it about their bond that caused them to decide, “We can’t do this alone like the rest of them. We have to do this together.”

Was it just them being close friends? Was it mental health related? Was it romance related? Was it work related? We’ll never know. We just know they’ve always been there for each other, and enlistment didn’t change that, no matter the missing (for us) context.

#anonymous #Jikook

15 notes · View notes

talesofthedm · 1 year ago

Text

Silence — Escape the Nautaloid

Woo, I finally got the chapter written and proofed. If anyone is interested, I will be writing out a combination of all 7 of my concurrent playthroughs (Tav + all the companions) and it is 100% a writing exercise and not because i have brain rot its both. By virtue of having those 7 playthroughs, it means I get to write out the romances between party members.

I'll be cross posting between here (summary and chapter below the line) and on AO3 as it goes. General tags/warnings will be applied to AO3, as well as I'll be doing chapter specific warnings in the notes section. Here will just get chapter specific ones. (Summary below the line).

Word Count: 6.8k

CW for this specific chapter includes: mentions of panic attacks, alien abduction, forced experimentation, graphic depictions of gore, body horror, implied stroke, and concussion.

Excerpt:

It felt as if her arm would be torn from her socket as she fought to pull herself up. Slender fingers curled around the clubbed tentacle, sticky and slick in the worst ways imaginable. Her mind screamed with a million thoughts—not all of them her own—and six lives that forced their way in. They did not supplant will as the mindflayers, but added to its strength; unified by the single desire to survive and live. The hallucinations took hold as dream and thought and reality collided along the Astral Sea. Hands scarred and beaten and broken and healed haphazardly in service to a loveless god. The delicate hands that had known no hard labor in his life despite carrying so much. Hands thrumming with wild energy that threatened to devour his very soul. Clawed hands of a deadly warrior dedicated to futile cause. Rough hands of a hero who would make every mistake again if asked. And burning hands betrayed and cursed by a devil. Their minds lurched as one with the ship as Freya ripped the last tenuous strand of life it had apart and suddenly gravity made sense again. Her body ripped from the crashing ship along with her new companions.

Summary: Freya lost her hunting partner two years ago. And then again three months later. And another a month later. Now she's pretty sure she's cursed. And being abducted her first day back in training really isn't helping that idea. Now she's trapped, it reeks of Avernus, something burrowed its way into her head, and she has to fight a small army! Even for someone who hunts the monsters roaming Baldur's Gate, this is a little much. Hopefully she can get back home and figure out what's going on before it gets any worse.

CH 1: Escape the Nautaloid

A large crack crawled along the edges of the glass as if it itself was alive, a parasite not unlike her own. Crawling, digging, tearing its way to ruin its host. She could still feel her own. Crawling. Burrowing. Itching. Settling somewhere between her optic nerve and pituitary gland.

The illithid didn’t even disarm her, the smoothed wood of her bow the only thing grounding her from another panic attack—not that it mattered even if they did. All she knew was that horrible clicking at the base of her skull that caused her limbs to seize. Docile as a doll, trapped within her own body. She would have preferred a bed of hot nails or a pair of fangs at her throat. Hells, she would have preferred if they simply ripped her skull open with the horrible slurping she had only read of in books. But that wasn’t the case now.

She jammed the tip of her bow through the broken seal, trying with all her might to pry it just a bit more, to open it just a touch farther. To breathe something that wasn’t so sterile and soulless—even if that meant burning lungs and acrid smoke. What she didn’t expect was the stench of Avernus; sulfur and heat and blood. So much blood.

Freya collapsed onto the floor rather pathetically. The floor was a smooth, strange metal that provided no purchase or traction despite its design that reminded her more of carapace than anything she knew. The sole of her boot slid this way and that as she fought to stand, knees knocking like a newborn deer. She refused to be such easy prey.

But the violent jostling of the nautaloid certainly wasn’t helping.

The world slid and Freya braced herself as best she could. The contents of the central vat sloshed over the edges, burning groves into the leather soles of her boots. It was a creamy sort of color, thick and viscous like porridge. A shame, really. She used to like porridge.

There were people—innocents—trapped as she was. Trapped behind tinted glass held by scaled plates made of crisscrossing membrane and kept alive by things that were more tentacle than tube. Freya doubted the raised designs were simply that. Perhaps they were like veins—carrying within it the lifeblood of the machine.

Men, women, elves, humans, gnomes… She wasn’t even sure if they were alive. What was the rising of a chest and what was the pulsing of the machine?

Even among the roar of fire and the shouts of the blood war, Freya heard the creature’s claws dig their way into the metal of the ship. Crawling, scraping, desperate and dying, towards her. Her body seized; her mind went still. Consumed entirely by a single thought that was not her own.

Feed…

The dying gasp of a desperate animal—if she could even call it that. It was all the mindflayer could think out before a chunk of plating collapsed inward, crushing its skull with a sickening squish…

Do they have skulls? Freya half wondered, gazing at its now flattened head. It had burst, a particularly nasty boil that now oozed out the sides where its brain once throbbed with life. She watched pink slime trickle its way across the rapidly warming metal.

She had to get out of here before the hells melted the entire ship around her.

Freya didn’t want to think of the door, the way it twisted and churned her stomach. The way this ship was almost a mockery of something. Not wholly alien, the designs plagiarized and stripped from nature. It would be better if it was entirely new, entirely unknown. Instead, she was walking through the literal butthole of the ship. The ridiculousness of it all made it all seem worse.

Gods, I hope they aren’t all like that.

But the next room was better. Cleaner. The smell was still stale, purified in a way no air should ever be, but also dotted with sulfur and blood; two things she should never be grateful to have. But her lungs no longer screamed, her eyes no longer burned. Best of all, she knew the bodies were dead.

A goblin laid across the table—though, she more thought of it as an altar with the care and reverence the owner had left his tools. The skull had been torn open with such delicate care; the brain cavity now void of anything she could call as such. The stem had snapped, leaving the ball of grayish-pink tissue to roll about in a pool of its own liquids. A shame, really. It would have made something so perfect…

Freya shook away the thought, refusing to believe it was her own. Instead, she took stock. Even if it was rather… pitiful. A training bow. Blunted arrows. Even her armor was no more fit for hunting than her nightclothes. It was soft, pliable. Something designed for sparring. Yet, here she was, shaking and vision blurring. Fighting for her life.

Free Us.

A distant thought called at the edges of her mind. Not her own—but not a command, either. A part of her softened at the voice. Like a parent hearing a newborn laugh.

Save Us.

Her limbs moved automatically towards the platform and before she knew it, she was standing before a control panel. At least… that’s what she thinks it was. A single, pulsing orb the color of blood. Tentacles protruding from it, reaching for her. Freya reached for it, in turn. It was warm, smooth. A gentle rhythm not unlike a heartbeat. And then the platform moved.

It deposited her only one level up, surrounded by jars and vials and tubes that did nothing but house still-living organs. Hearts and stomachs and patches of skin and brains. So many brains… Samples? Experiments? Aquariums? Terrariums? Either way, there was a primal kind of fear rising up in her at the sight. Something that she was never designed to see—no one was designed to see—and it was put on display as one would a collection of insects. To be pretty and pinned and studied and cherished.

The worst of it all was the twitching form in the chair. Shirtless, scalpless. The only things left of the elf was a blood-spattered body and an echoing voice that in no way belonged to him. Here. We are here. If Freya wasn’t so close, if she hadn’t seen the floating tentacles and the rhythmic pulsing of his exposed brain, she might have mistaken him for a lord sitting atop a throne. A dark, spiked throne of chitin and spines. His head lolled back and forth as if to say ‘no,’ the echoes of his final words still playing on repeat even though no sound came out. No no no no no no no. His mind was gone, his body a husk on autopilot.

We are trapped.

Freya approached with caution; her footsteps as soft as she could make them despite the pounding in her head.

Yes! You came to save Us from this place, from this place you’ll free Us! Please, before they return.

They return, the voice echoed across her mind, consuming all thought and supplanting it with its own.

No brain should move. No brain should twitch, quivering in excitement and anticipation. Freya could not help but study it, the squishing mass of tissue that had swollen to fill the entirety of the cranium. The edges of it were darkened, misshapen and discolored from its beating against the skull that held it. Blood vessels spread out from the center, curling and reaching through to every crevice. It reminded her of trees or vines or winding rivers on a map. It was an image of life itself, now perverted into something slopping and disgusting.

“Why do you sound so afraid?”

The enemy! So many enemies. As if to invoke pity, tears streaked down the elf’s face. A constant, steady stream that washed away the bloody stains. Or worse, there was something left of the man. Left in a silent scream of pain and agony as his very will was ripped and torn by tiny claws.

“You’re past the point of saving,” she pleaded to the man, not the brain. “I can’t—”

The voices drove into her mind like an icepick; a hundred, a thousand, a million of them. Her father, her mother, the children she would hear running between the streets at dawn and dusk, her coworkers chatting it up in the tavern… her partner. Please! We are newborn. Remove us from this body.

Freya grit her teeth against the onslaught. The idea of manipulating her—using pity and memories that in no way belonged to anyone but her—was enough to drive her over the edge. She gripped the brain, digging scarred and callused hands between the squelching tissue and smooth walls of the interior skull. Clear liquid splotched out onto the ground at her feet as her fingers dug deeper, displacing whatever remaining spinal fluid still lingered underneath.

The newborn screamed, piercing and painful. Whether it was calling for help, or begging for mercy, she did not know but it only spurred her on. It, in turn, was clawing at her mind. Digging mental claws, tearing and biting at distant memories she would better preferred stayed buried and forgotten—anything to save itself.

She dug deeper still, slipping deft fingers into the furthest recesses of the skull as she searched blindly for the spot dead center—the dull, constant thud of the heart of a dying man pulsing its way through his arteries and into a brain that was no longer his. Freya tore through the circle of veins with ease, more blood than she always thought possible slopping onto the ground.

And then it was quiet. Sweet, sweet, silence as she tuned out the raging infernos and battle cries just beyond the walls.

Something had torn into the side of the ship long before she had awoken, exposing what could only be described as open bone and straining tendons to the searing heat of the hells. A strangely sweet scent on the air—sickeningly so—as the tissue shriveled and burned and died.

Freya made her way back to the platform, and from there the floor below. She had to get out of here, had to escape. Even if it meant traversing Avernus itself; she would sooner sell her soul willingly than have it forcibly taken.

Carapace-metal turned to squishing flesh. Her boots sunk into the new terrain, a welcome adjustment from having to constantly fight the frictionless surface. Especially as the rush of air nearly knocked her over, the great beating of wings as two red dragons rushed past in a torrent of fangs and claws and fire. They weaved through the air, dodging beams of psionic energy before tearing the canons away and tossing the scraps into the valley below. Even in the hells, surrounded by an ever-burning sky and flying over a river of lava, she could feel the heat of their breath. Her skin crawled at the heat, feeling the memory of her face puckering and scarring over again. A faint waft of oil and a bad memory.

Still, this was not what had Freya on edge. That kind of sixth-sense, the one where the edges of her hair stood on end and had her taking back alleys she normally avoided crawled its way up her spine. The sense of being watched; of being hunted.

Her bow was braced and primed before the Githyanki landed, the roar of yet another dragon soaring overhead. “Abomination. This is your end.” The sword was at Freya’s chest, mere centimeters from tearing through the leather and sinking into her flesh. At the same time, she was mere seconds from releasing the string and sending the arrow flying into the Gith’s eye.

They were at a stalemate, as far as she was concerned. Either run her through and die in the process, or disarm her and give her time to run. Even blunted, arrows could do damage if they were aimed well enough.

The two were on the ground before they could realize what was happening. The pounding, throbbing pain of memories flooding both their minds. Of dragon wings and tearing fangs, of silver swords and poisoned tipped arrows. Of each other as seen through the others eyes.

One tall, one short. One lean muscle and the other strong. The copper skin of a wood elf beside the green and black streaked skin of a Githyanki. Each under prepared, taken by surprise and held and used as nothing more than an incubator.

Both hunters in their own right.

“You are no thrall—Vlaakith blesses me this day! Together we might survive.”

“Then what do you suggest?”

“First, we must exterminate the imps.” Freya looked over the Gith’s shoulder, finding the tiny creatures tearing away at the innards of a fresh carcass. “Then we find the helm and take control. We can address the matter of a cure once we reach the Material Plane.”

Lae’zel took off running before she could even respond, blade arching its way into the skull of the imp. It’s twin set of horns split, the curved bone all but shattering from the force. It gave a short cry, one no more suited for a babe, let alone a demonic creature. There was something almost… excited in her motions. A happiness Freya understood. Of not being stranded and alone in all this.

Freya stayed further back, allowing her new companion to take the brunt of the attacks for her if she was so insistent on charging into battle. The Gith had armor—she could take it. Bow in hand, the weight at least familiar if useless. She drew the string, knocking her arrow with it in one practiced, fluid motion and took aim between its ribs.

Her eyes blurred, limbs shaking, as that thing crawled around inside her. She could not aim, let alone target the weakest points of the imp as it danced around the sky. She doubted she could hit a simple target in her state… Freya shifted her attention, instead aiming for a much larger target than the tiny space between two equally tiny ribs.

The arrow pierced its leathery wing, tearing delicate veins that would leave more bruise than any deep wound. Even still, it collapsed to the ground, the force of the shot sent it tumbling off the edge and into the chasm below. No wings, no flight. And it being a million miles from the ground… The only thing she regretted was losing the arrow, making her already dismal supply even worse.

A beating of wings lost in the torrent of wind; she didn’t realize it was upon her until the blade bit into her shoulder. The curved edge of a scimitar—as long as the imp was tall—narrowly missing her ear. Freya swore, realizing the remaining flying pest was smarter than she would have liked. Her arm was useless in this state. She backed up, feet dragging against the metal so she would not trip and make her situation worse. At least, until she felt her heel teeter on the edge, nothing below but decrepit earth and endless war a million miles below.

It glided forward, beating of its wings matching Freya’s heart. Its eyes burned like fire, but held nothing but cold and pain and promises of a torturous eternity no matter if she lived or died. Closer and closer, perhaps wanting to inch her off the deck of the ship rather than sully its already blood-stained blade. Curved talons reached out, not to strike but to push her that last half-step into the chasm below.

Freya sidestepped the fiend the moment it came within reach, the creature only finding empty air. Horrible screeches of anger, one that made her ears bleed and resolve steel, left behind nothing but an empty promise as the elf drove a blunted arrow into the literal fire of its eye. The blaze turned to a single, fading cinder that could just as easily be snuffed out by a pair of fingers. Its body went slack, crumpling to the ground. If she hadn’t just killed it, she might have mistaken it for a prop or toy of some rich noble who pretended his life was worth more than it was.

“Ugh!” Lae’zel screamed, silvery blade slashing wildly through the air as the final remaining imp dodged between attacks. It taunted her, tongue out blowing raspberries and throwing rude gestures with every missed hit. The Gith was panting, seething, out of breath far sooner than she was used to.

At least Freya wasn’t the only one suffering any ill effects.

Her shoulder screamed with every motion, its tendons now nothing but thin strands trying desperately to hold her together. She knocked the arrow, drew back the string. She aimed, watching as the tip shook with each shuttering breath and the world blurred from a mixture of pain and tadpole. It—the fiend—danced and fluttered as gleefully as a child between each attack. She would never be able to hit it, not with the Gith swinging and the creature dancing… But she had to aim at something.

The arrow went loose, Freya shifting her weight and her aim at the last possible moment to account for herself and prayed to whatever god that could hear for it to miss its mark. The blunted tip veered off course almost immediately, striking the imp through the back instead of the glinting red gem of the Githyanki’s armor. It collapsed, dead.

“Tchk. Perhaps you are not as useless as I believed, after all.” Lae’zel kicked the fiend’s head, confirming its death.

Freya reached down and picked up the scimitar with her good arm, the weight of it unfamiliar and the rapidly heating metal causing blisters where it met her skin. It was another option, at least. And it would have to do—swinging wildly was a better chance to hurt something than her bow. She just had to pray it wasn’t herself.

Or Lae’zel.

The Gith took off running, leading the charge with an eagerness Freya only associated with the apprentices.

Webs of membrane spilled out over the ledges. Of course, she would have to climb in her state…

But the glowing mist of a machine beckoned her. Thousands of thin, strand-like feelers with bulbus tips, a strange blue fluid leaking from them. It smelled of fresh rain and sweet wine, brandy and herbs and the first peeling of a fresh orange. It smelled of her rest periods, the times between hunts when she had herself and silence and possibly her dad as he visited after his own work.

She stepped onto the platform, textured and shell-like and alien even compared to the rest of the ship in its organic nature. The mist surrounded her, the fluid dripping and evaporating on contact with a hiss. There was no pain, no itching, not even a numbness as her shoulder stitched itself together, layer by layer, fiber by fiber. Not even a scar, just fresh, healthy skin.

“Hurry up,” Lae’zel called from the top of the membrane rope. “The Ghaik do not wait, nor do the hells.”

The top was more chitin-metal, seemingly untouched by the heat and the blasts of devils and dragons. Another puckering door that gave way at the slightest intrusion, and beyond it a monolith of spines.

An elf and a human and a tiefling, not bound but held prisoner all the same, slept in some form of deep statis. Each one wearing the same clothes, baring the same crest that itched the back of her mind with its familiarity. A downward triangle, a front facing skull locked in a grimace, and a bloody handprint to cover it all.

Their energy was being sapped, stripped away by the altars they lied upon and fed into the monolith in the firm of twisting, red energy. The interior of it pulsed, spasmed as if it itself was living. Like a leech or vampire, feeding off of the hapless victims. Though it was not lifeblood it stole, but something equally as precious.

Freya just did not know what it was.

The control panel in front of it was comprised of more tentacles and wet tissue. Massive orbs she could only describe as tumors gave a soft glow about them, each one labeled with a strange word she could distantly remember in a book but otherwise ascribed no meaning. She was not sure what was button, what was lever, what was joystick, and what was merely design.

“You!” A panicked voice echoed behind tempered glass from across the room. “Get me out of this damn thing!” A woman with dark hair and silvered armor, bearing religious iconography across her entire being—eclipses and shadows.

“I’ll look around—there must be some way to get this damned thing open.” Freya craned her neck, looking at the pod and its construction. It was wrapped in a strange energy she had not seen before—red with flecks of a golden orange. There was no latch, no lever, not even a hinge to show it was capable of opening… she had pried hers off. Was she truly only alive because of another fluke?

“Tchk, we do not have time. We must reach the helm!”

Freya ignored her companion’s complaints. “The pod’s stuck fast. I’ll look around, there must be some way to get this thing open.”

“The contraption next to the pod! They did something to it when they sealed me in!”

The console was dormant, unlike the counterpart she had previously found. The life thrumming through it was minimal, possibly asleep or dying. Cancerous bulbs only gave a faint pulse in time with her breaths. Freya punched it, her fist digging half a foot into the fleshy gray matter-like tissue before her momentum slowed to a stop. She pulled back, a sticky strand of clear mucus trailing behind it. Ugh.

There had to be something, anything, to save someone. And then there was: an empty socket.

Now if only she knew what was supposed to go in it.

“It’s missing a piece! I’m going to look around, see if I can’t find something—”

“Please!” the woman cut her off. “Hurry!”

Perhaps the next room would have a key or a hatch or an escape. All Freya knew is she could not leave the girl with shadowy eyes. She could not save everyone, but she could save someone.

But, gods, she hated these damned doors.

She wasn’t sure what to call the chamber, a suspended platform above a cancerous mound of sticky flesh. An antechamber? An observation deck? The six thrones spoke of unequalled power and the central pod said nothing but voyeuristic torture. Even the architecture expressed only violence.

At first, Freya mistook the statues for wasps, with their long, curved thoraxes that tapered to an unsettling point. But the lack of legs, of wings, gave her pause. More larva than insect, with the piercing maw of a spider and the thousand legs of a centipede. She could feel it now, squirming and crawling and nestling deeper into her brain. The pointed stinger dragging, leaving trails of pooling blood that blurred her vision and numbed her limbs and confused her mind.

The room was a monument to all things absolute.

Absolute power.

Absolute control.

Absolute perfection.

The two of them stepped over a dead body, a human that looked stronger than either of them felt at the moment. Another escapee, another runaway. A failed one, at that. Clutched in her palm was a single key. Something she was desperate enough to die for… Freya took it, slipping it in her pocket.

Another pod stood front and center. Harsh lines, plated chitin, but it was not pulsating. The tubes that ran in and out were dead and dull, the once living prison now more like stone. The woman inside was trapped, too dazed to realize who she was, let alone the danger she was in.

But she was moving. She was moving and blinking and breathing and—“We have to find a way to open it. Get her out.”

“We will not! Our mission is the helm, not to waste our energy on every ishtik we come across.”

Freya whipped around, trying her hardest to ignore the way the world was suddenly doing summersaults. The woman was fidgeting, palms itching and shoulders pinched and teeth bared in such a way that it betrayed her thoughts. She itched to reach back, pull the gleaming longsword from its sheath and strike through Freya’s body in one swift motion.

But she didn’t.

Her palms itched not from impatience, but from beads of sweat that made Lae’zel too uncomfortable to be in her own skin. Her shoulders pinched not as an enraged animal, but as something cornered. She bared her teeth like fangs only because she had none.

She was afraid.

“One less captive, one less mindflayer. One less threat.”

Her new companion bounced impatiently. “Our mission is the helm. Not this,” she restated. But otherwise, Lae’zel made no motion to flee, or strike, or otherwise betray her.

There was another living module at the far end, riddled with cancerous tumors and sticky tentacles. Freya reached out, tentatively and sunk her hand into the very center of it. She had a vision of it—of reaching into the proverbial lion’s maw and hoping it did not bite back.

A voice, one so distant and indistinct that it could not be understood, echoed in both their minds. To be born, to perfect, to be changed…

The woman in the pod screamed. One that stole her breath and threatened to tear her throat with its intensity—but it was muffled. She beat desperately against the glass as every muscle in her body seized. Her neck strained, snapping violently to the side as her limbs jerked violently in the wrong directions. Her bones snapped, commanded by a higher will to destroy itself in order to be born anew. Violet tentacles tore their way through her throat and out her mouth, choking the last of her life away before consuming her in its entirety. A face, a brain, crawling its way outside a fleshy prison and into the light the way a hatching might break its egg. The woman’s body flipped inside out, destroying anything of her that might have been saved. And then there was a mindflayer.

Dampened behind tempered glass, the woman’s last acts of humanity had been to make sure that her “saviors” knew the pain and torment they had condemned her to. Freya wasn’t sure if it was a blessing or a curse.

“Kaincha!” Lae’zel swore. Freya might have not been able to speak the language, but she understood all the same.

Fuck.

“We must be purified, or this may be our fate!”

“No arguments,” Freya responded. There was no fight left except that of survival.

The two ran back to the previous room as fast as they could manage and gave another cursory glance. To find explosive, acids, poisons, weapons of any kind that may help them survive the waking nightmare they were in.

The same woman from before continued to beat against the glass, desperate for escape as they were. Freya was about to leave her and save her own skin if it hadn’t been for the damned chest and Lae’zel.

The reliquary was odd in its normalcy. Something mundane, inanimate, yet resting atop a nautaloid table as if it belonged. A deep purple, obsidian or perhaps a rough amethyst, and wrapped in gold. And locked. Very very locked. The key clicked in place, turning with no resistance and revealing a meager contents. A few coins. A small gem.

An alien-looking slate.

It called to her; sang in that special way she had come to associate with everything nautaloid. Another key, this one begging to be placed back in it’s socket like the piece of a puzzle. Begging to be made whole once more.

There were no screams, thankfully, when Lae’zel pressed a hand against the button of the central control panel. The sleeping forms feeding the great machine spasmed, purple spikes of energy snapping through the air and piercing the very fabric of their minds. They collapsed in silence, died in silence, and now bleed out onto the ground in silence.

“What the hells?!”

“We dealt with ghaik your way. Now, we try mine.”

“They were not ghaik,” the word felt strange on her tongue, a series of sounds she was not used to stringing together in such an order. “They were people! They were—”

“They were nothing but tralls feeding the Grand Design. Your saving,” she spat the word. “Only invites death upon us.

Lae’zel stalked to the woman’s pod, prepared to continue her slaughter. “No! Please!”

Freya ran as fast as she could, shocking the Gith woman with her speed. She flung herself between her companion and the pod, arms out to protect from whatever attack she had planned. “No more death! No more loss!”

“Then you invite our own! A thrall cannot be shown mercy—”

“A thrall who’s begging to be let out? Afraid to become a monster?” Lae’zel stood speechless. “She is no more thrall than you or I, Lae’zel.”

“I would appreciate it if you did not debate my death while I’m standing right here!”

Freya ignored her, continuing. “She is conscious, and she is talking, and she is as much afraid as you or I.”

“Those worthy of Vlaakith do not know fear,” she spat, but otherwise did not refute the statement. The Gith leaned back on her feet. She did not concede ground but did not advance, either. Freya carefully stepped over to the dormant console, only turning her back to the Gith and the pod when she was forced to.

The slate slid in without effort, locking in place as alien muscles contracted and held it there. The same strange red and golden light emanated from the center of it, as if it had been infected by an equally alien disease. It pulsed, a dull thud that sounded in the back of her head as much as it did in front of her. It was not a mind, but a beating heart… what would happen if she killed it?

The parasite squirmed in Freya’s head as she reached towards the console. She could feel the web of veins in her brain strain and tear as the creature burrowed deeper, contented with the soft warmth of fleshy gray matter that gave way around it. Her vision blurred again, the side of her body suddenly feeling numb.

But then the sensation was gone, the discomfort fading into the dull ache of dehydration and sore muscles, and a new one flooded in. A familiarity of being held, of never quite being alone. An intimate connection that whispered power and belonging and control. Authority.

Freya clung to that feeling despite every cell in her body screaming otherwise. She was in control. Her will would supplant all others.

Even the nautaloid itself.

The pod would open.

She felt the command buzz across every synapse of the living ship at the speed of thought. Processing. Considering. Yeilding.

The pod shifted, the chitin plating parting as the glass slid away on unseen hinges. The woman stood on her own two feet, prepared to take her first steps to freedom.

Perhaps it was the sudden shift in pressure, of stale air being stolen from her lungs and flooding back in with the caustic smell of smoke and antiseptic. Perhaps it was the adrenaline crash, her body realizing that, for a brief moment, she was safe. Either way, eyes rolled back and her knees buckled. She collapsed onto the floor.

“Pathetic,” Lae’zel spat.

Freya ran over, sliding onto her knees in an instant to help the woman up.

“I—I thought that damn thing was going to be my coffin. Thank you—” both of them keeled over in pain, minds lurching into the familiar but unwelcomed dance. The barest glimpses of memory—distant and shadowed as the rest of her—and gratitude and wariness. No one helped without cause, and there was a Gith standing behind both of them.

“She’s an ally,” Freya responded to the question before it was even asked.

“We will take the helm. Escape and cure us of this infection.” As if it was a simple wound to be cleansed.

The woman nodded. “We’ll need all the help we can get. Let’s get off this thing together.” She stood on wobbly knees and took a few tentative steps before a moment of realization came over her. “One moment.” She turned, fetching a discarded pack from the floor of her pod. A red vial, a scroll, and a strange device that she seemed too keen on hiding from her new companion’s watchful gazes. “Lead the way.”

The helm had been right around the corner, a simple right instead of the straight path they had originally taken. “Follow my lead once we are inside,” Lae’zel commanded.

The door spiraled open onto a long interior, the chitin floor melted and burning under the hellish fires of Avernus. Literal devils slashed away at the tentacled freaks—mindflayers. One locked in a deadly conflict, blasts of psionic energy warping the very fabric of reality around them as the devil took stab after stab with a flaming sword. A second combatted his own further back before he was disarmed and forced to his knees.

The alien creature wrapped its tentacles around the devil’s face, forcing the moist appendages down its throat so the devil would choke. A horrible, shuttering noise came from the mindflayer, more akin to a drill bore than anything normal. Blood spirted in wide arches, decorating the alien in a veil of glory as it slurped the brain from its cavity and the devil fell down limp. Freya had never seen one feed before. And, based on her companions’ reactions, none of them had.

Imps crawled their way into the room from between cracks and open windows, like parasites themselves. One, two, three slashes across the Illithid’s body and face and arms. Its own blood intermingled with the devil’s. It did not matter what was what or whose was whose; they both collapsed beside one another in death.

A blast of psionic energy pushed the last remaining devil flat on its ass, buying the creature enough time to survey the destruction around it. The alien’s eyes met Freya’s and immediately formed a mental connection.

Thrall, connect the nerves of the transponder. We must escape. Now. Command. Authority. Pleading. Fear. Desperation. Impotence.

It could only pray she obeyed, its mind immediately dragged to more pressing matters as the Devil stood itself up and cleaved into its side.

“Heed its command,” Lae’zel said. “We will deal with the mindflayer once we are back in the material plane!”

Freya took off running without a second thought. She didn’t even notice the hellish creatures tearing through the corpses before her until the hellsboar took a swipe with its burning tusks. It gouged into her leg, cauterizing the wound the moment it was made. So, she kept running.

An imp erupted into golden flames before collapsing to the ground at a single wave of the shadowed-woman’s hands. Fuck, Freya swore to herself. How could she have forgotten? Maybe she wasn’t as useless in a fight as she thought.

Two more creatures collapsed around her as Lae’zel picked off imp after imp with her bow. Part of Freya hoped the Gith was providing proper cover and not just blindly aiming and praying that she missed enough in the right direction to be useful.

Freya left the cambion devil and the mindflayer in the dust, each step reverberating up her legs painfully with the force of pushing herself faster and farther than she was capable of in the moment.

The two struck at each other desperately, the mindflayer too dazed and weak to be useful anymore. The cambion, on the other hand, was deadlier than ever. Its ever-burning blade tearing through lilac flesh with all the diabolical grace Freya had come to associate with the Nine Hells. The battle was almost laughable—but she was more afraid in the moment of what would become of them if the ship fell before its time.

“Incante!” Freya screamed, a newly summoned hellsboar erupting in golden light before collapsing to the ground, a charred husk of an already charred husk.

She was so close. So, so, so, so, so close to the transponder. To the writhing tentacles that controlled the ship. To home.

With a final scream, the mindflayer fell; useless in death as it was in life. Freya did not have time to survey the scene, to find out who the Cambion would reach for next in its slaughter. She hardly had time to think, being so incredibly close to the end of it all.

The shadowed woman stumbled, the heavy armor she wore suddenly unfamiliar in its weight as the ship lurched. The final master now dead, the ship was dying. The Gith took an unaimed shot, desperate to distract the fiend long enough to buy time. It went wide, a mere nuisance in the way a particularly annoying fly might have been, and the cambion lifted its blade to strike a critical blow. One that would cleave the woman in two, leaving her bleeding out on the floor of the ship until the heated air dried it to flaking clots and empty breaths.

Freya gripped the tentacled arms of the transponder, delicate feelers reaching from the clubbed head. It latched on to her in turn; consuming, feeding on her very will. She grabbed a second one at random, forcing the two ends to meet in the middle. An endless loop, the ship feeding off of its own dying energy. The tentacles went taught as a string. And, like a string, she flicked it. A gentle hum reverberated throughout the ship and the surrounding air.

The ship lurched again more violently than before. The cambion lost his footing mid strike, sending him flying into a curved pane of glass, cracking it, as gravity suddenly had no reason. The blade spun through the air, having been lost in the fiend’s fall. Spinning, flipping one end over the other until it finally sunk with a final thud and though its wielder. Web-like designs crawled along the pane, cracking and breaking until, finally, it shattered and the cambion fell through to its death.

Lae’zel found herself suddenly on the ceiling and then again splayed across the floor. Her weapons scattered to the winds as her lungs protested the lack of air around her. A familiar pain, one she had grown used to in her travels between planes and across the Astral Sea. Her body willed itself to breathe, willing the very fabric of dreams to solidify into oxygen so she would not die. No, in Vlaakith’s name she would. Not. Die.

Freya clung desperately to the tentacles of the transponder, her own lungs burning and her limbs screaming with the strain of holding on in the violent tumble out of Avernus. Gravity ripped this way and that, no rhyme or reason as the ship drove at impossible speeds to worlds unknown. They had to go anywhere, anywhere, but here. Anywhere in the material plane—anywhere close to home.

Hands scarred and beaten and broken and healed haphazardly in service to a loveless god.

The delicate hands that had known no hard labor in his life despite carrying so much.

Hands thrumming with wild energy that threatened to devour his very soul.

Clawed hands of a deadly warrior dedicated to futile cause.

Rough hands of a hero who would make every mistake again if asked.

And burning hands betrayed and cursed by a devil.

Their minds lurched as one with the ship as Freya ripped the last tenuous strand of life it had apart and suddenly gravity made sense again. Her body ripped from the crashing ship along with her new companions. She fell a hundred feet, a thousand feet, a million feet to the rapidly approaching beach below, fully conscious yet strangely calm in the face of her impending death. A searing pain in her skull as her brain collided with the interior of it.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #balders gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #astarion #karlach #bg3 gale #shadowheart #astarion x tav #gale dekarios #lae'zel #slow burn #my writing #fanfic #shadowheart x lae’zel #shadowheart x halsin #wyll ravengard #wyll x karlach #gale x lae'zel

26 notes · View notes

thessalian · 17 days ago

Text

Thess vs Playthrough Planning

Look, I am exceptionally weird about some things, and currently my "being weird about things" falls into the Veilguard space because it's about the only space I have for anything at the moment that isn't "work", because it's been like six weeks of overtime and the spoons are gone. Though tomorrow I do have to christen my new casserole dish with creamy lemon chicken and asparagus pasta.

Anyway, while picking your race is a nice thing, especially when there's any kind of reactivity to it, what I'm really loving is being able to choose faction. Mostly because ... well, Inquisition. They forgot that picking an origin in Dragon Age wasn't so much about picking just a race to play, but a big chunk of your character background. All three races in Origins had at least two choices of origin; elves got three. (Dwarves had Noble and Commoner, humans had Noble or Mage, elves had City, Dalish, or Mage.) But in Inquisition, your background was 100% locked to your race ... and then frankly barely (if ever) mentioned again. You picked human? You're a noble. You picked elf? You're Dalish. You pick qunari? Well ... grey area because if you did have a qunari that wasn't vashoth, it's highly unlikely that they'd see becoming the Herald of Andraste as "following a demand of the Qun", given how Bull's companion quest went down. Kind of the same with dwarf, but only because you probably don't need more than one Varric anyway, I guess? Anyway, point is that in Origins you could pick where you came from; Inquisition had it foisted on you as a part of your race.

Now, there are a few things about character creation that I wish Veilguard had done better (for instance, getting a little tired of starting in medias res; I would have loved to have a prologue like we had in Origins and actually being able to do the thing that Varric recruited Rook for in the first place), but being able to pick your faction separate from your race was one thing I think they did right. Now, some are apparently more reactive than others throughout the game, but on the whole, it was nice to be able to pick exactly what you wanted to do and didn't race-restrict any of them. I intend to make use of that.

The issue becomes ... you all know how I have my whole bunch of names and general personality types that generally come up when I play CRPGs like this. There's the Mollys, and the closely related Mychaes. There's the Jessies. There's the Astrids. There's the recently added Jalliras, Srinas, and Addies. Hell, there could conceivably be Alisaies. The problem is ... what faction do I put them in?

Well, Srina's easy. Srina's an assassin. Thus, Srina's a Crow. Mychae's probably a Shadow Dragon. Astrid - Shadow Dragon or maybe Veil Jumper. Alisaie ... honestly, possibly Lords of Fortune. I kind of want to put Jallira in the Mourn Watch but her immediate deal is "member of a traditionally neutral order fighting the forces of darkness" so she's probably likely to be a Grey Warden. Which is also where Addie would go, so both my redheads have a home there. And Jessie ... either Wardens or Lords of Fortune. Which means I am missing a Mourn Watch. I'm going to have to dig deep into the old grab-bag of WoD characters for that one. I guess I could go with my old vampire, Solita Giovanni, but that was my one particularly unpleasant character and she does not fit in well with the "saving the world" vibe. I guess Nina Gordon - my old Dreamspeaker, who was by and large a speaker to the dead.

I admit to at least part of this being that I want to make my various characters as well as I can in the character creator and then see them in action. And also exploring the various romances. Like, Jallira'd go for Davrin because Jallira's first two incarnations had her demonstrating a preference for military men and Davrin's as close as we're gonna get. Srina ... thinking about it, she'd probably go for Harding, because as much as she will never admit it, she likes her cheerful redheads. Alisaie ... Taash. Mychae - Bellara, because she enjoys the excitable adventrous ones. I kind of want to have Astrid go for Emmrich because I just one time when seeing a relationship with the male mage goes her way. That leaves Neve. Jessie might get along well with Neve. We'll see.

That said, I need to get through the Lucanis-romancing Veil Jumper Molly!Rook playthrough first. I'mma see if I have some spoons for at least some of it. That would be nice.

#Thess plays video games #Thess liveblogs DA: Veilguard #datv spoilers #I mean - not many or not much but better safe than sorry

3 notes · View notes

solitaireships · 22 days ago

Note

✍️🙈💞 + 🤪 for minala plsss :)))

✍️: Overall, how does the fandom trait you? Are you a beloved character, or hated? Are you popular, or a minor side character? Anything in between?

So since Minala’s my Rook, she’s the protagonist. I think especially since people largely like Rook, she would be pretty well likes, but idk if you’ve seen it, but some people have also been insisting Rook is actually the worst ever and the real villain instead of that bald man so. It’d really depend lmao

I do think at the very least if she were made a companion instead of the PC, people would like her for her goth autistic vibes tho! She’d probably be slotted into the “brain empty goofy” thing everyone likes to slot Rooks in general into which is 100% inaccurate for her but it is what it is

🤪: What is your trait that fanon would exaggerate?

I do fear her being autistic, wasian, and anxious may get her slotted into the delicate flower uwu baby thing despite her being a grown ass woman lol

💞: Aside from with your f/o, who else would you commonly be shipped with? Why?

I think Davrin mainly just bcs they’re best friends lol. My joking bonus answer would also be Anders bcs that’s my husband, but outside of that, idk. Maybe Myrna and/or Vorgoth bcs of the Mourn Watch associations?

🙈: Why would your ship be thought of as cute/fluffy? Why would your ship be considered problematic?

For the most part, I think people would like it! Especially with the Minala and Bellara relationship, I think that people would really like it bcs of the degree of connection and similarity they have with each other, that’s then balanced out with some opposites attract kind of stuff (ex Minala being raised by humans and Bellara being Dalish, Minala being quiet while Bellara is more outgoing and energetic)

I also know people just from telling me on here would like Emmrich x Minala bcs goth x goth- they’re lowkey Gomez and Morticia Addams coded when it comes to romance. Them coparenting Manfred would be so sweet, and especially since Emmrich’s been wanting to be in love for so long and hasn’t really found that one true love. I think it’s very sweet

Then Minala and Neve. I know I don’t talk about them a ton, and that’s bcs they get together post canon so it’s hard to talk about without spoilers. If you can guess by the fact that Minala romanced Bellara in the game itself, you can probably figure out a major thing that happens with Neve that then effects the relationship. So there’s a bit of angst there but I think that makes them getting together all the sweeter bcs it means they still have this very strong mutual trust. Minala makes it easier for Neve to see the bright side of things, and I think they bring out other sides of each other

However there is the elephant in the room and why I always get a little scared even on here talking about the polyam part of Gothic Sunshine, which is the age gap between Emmrich, Minala, and Bellara. All of them are fully grown adults- Bellara is 32 and Minala is 34- but Emmrich being 56 (unconfirmed but my specific hc based on the range we got) would be what would make people hesitate around it. And I know most people don’t tend to care about Rook x Emmrich, but I think that Bellara in the relationship specifically would be what would make people say it could be problematic. Especially with Bellara calling Emmrich professor at first (which she does bcs she first started talking to him over letters about academic things and she wants to be respectful), I think people would get weird about that

And that leads me into another related thing bcs again. Bellara is a grown, 32 year old woman. She is an expert in her field. She fixed an eluvian in minutes when people have studied how to do that their whole lifetime. Yet both the fandom and to some degree the game tends to infantilize her. You have no idea how much it annoys me that they just kind of treat her like a fan for Neve and Emmrich when she’s an equal to them, and yes I do think this treatment of her is bcs she’s an Asian woman with ADHD. Her relationship with both of them does shift in the game, and Emmrich calls out the imposter syndrome she has that’s part of why she acts that way, but then the game immediately goes to characterizing her in her dynamic with Neve as being sisterly bcs god forbid an Asian woman be treated like an adult and viable romantic interest. Rant over but yeah I do think that would also make people try to say the ship since it includes all three mages is problematic

#asks #cel-dmg #♟️ minala #⚰️#⚰️ enduring affection #🦌#🦌 coffin bells #🐍#🐍 good kind of trouble #can you tell i get really anxious about people thinking i’m a bad person for the polyship lol #gothic sunshine #thank you!

5 notes · View notes

dayntee · 27 days ago

Text

Think I’m gonna start posting my Veilguard thoughts. I just finished my first run yesterday, but we can start with a backlog.

Let’s talk about my Lavellan tonight. Up to Act I Veilguard spoilers below, but we’re mostly gonna talk Inquisition and Trespasser.

Aliana Lavellan is a Rogue Inquisitor who specialized in Archery -> Assassin progression. She was a hunter for her clan before the conclave, and as a natural scout, it made the most sense to send her as a spy. In all honesty, she was excited about the opportunity. If anything, it would be thrilling to have new experiences outside her otherwise insulated world.

Clearly, she got way more than she asked for.

Aliana Lavellan: Dalish hunter, Herald of Andraste, Inquisitor, and "She who will hunt down he who is dumb of ass."

Inquisition Relationships:

Solavellan romance, but started out crushing on Cullen. Solas’ smooth talking is what did it, as I played her pretty flirty with everyone. The Egg just out-rizzed her and it was over from there.

Among friends, she counted Cassandra, Cole, Varric, and of course Solas. She was also fond of/friends with all her advisors. (This largely reflects whose companion quests I actually finished to completion.)

She didn’t actively have disdain for anyone else—up until the Blackwall betrayal. This is totally hypocritical of her in the long run, but it's part of what made Solas' duplicity hurt that much more.

She was buddies, but not besties, with Sera and Dorian. I really only got about halfway through both of their companion quests, and likely would have finished them if I had had more patience for the War Table. That's not their faults; this is 100% the person behind the Veil's fault, and had I more patience, she'd likely have made fast and dedicated friends of them both.

Vivienne remained an acquaintance at best. She could not deal with the Orlesian-ness of it all (though that spa day in Trespasser was an unexpected delight, and she could get used to that).

Bull betrayed her in Trespasser, as he remained loyal to the Qun. I didn't see it coming, and neither did she. She is still genuinely devastated by this fact to this day.

Leliana was steeled; Aliana appreciates a "greater good" attitude, and was not inherently opposed to less honorable measures taken.

Cass was made Divine. This directly influenced her desire to keep the Inquisition a peacekeeping force, especially knowing she would serve directly under the Divine (whom she trusted).

Disposition:

Aliana is unequivocally Dalish and driven by an intense desire to make Thedas better for the People. However, she was never satisfied with the way clans kept to themselves and hoarded their most precious knowledge amongst Keepers and Firsts. It struck her as no better than Magister and Circle behavior.

Additionally, city elves and their differences fascinate her, because at least they interact with the world in different ways. They have exposure to other cultures, and while the alienages are unjust, there is beauty in their found communities within. This interest is one of the reasons she volunteered to spy on the Conclave—she firmly believes she needed to leave her clan if she was ever going to bring them justice and peace.

She was always eager to learn more. This playthrough was my first and I went in blind, and I’m an unapologetic Dalish fangirl. I really did want to know every bit of kernel of info Solas could offer. One could say the romance was a… pleasant side benefit.

Initially, she didn't really trust the Templars or Mages. That said, after Redcliffe, she learned more empathy for their situation, seeing the Circle's oppression of mages no different than the shem's oppression of her people.

Initially, she was a terrible leader and would be the first to admit it. She was bad at The Game, forging alliances, and she often selfishly put the Dalish first. She actually might have empathized with, if not supported, Solas' plan had he revealed it to her sooner.

She really didn't step up to being a savior of anything until Solas broke off their involvement. While not a righteous reason to do so, that's when she threw herself into making better decisions because it was a distraction. She spent the remainder of Solas' time with the Inquisition angry and living well specifically to spite him. (Yes, she's petty, lol.)

She kept her vallaslin. Despite Solas' offer and insight, she cares about what it means to be Dalish now, not just what it meant to be Elvhen then. Without it, she doesn't feel she can make Thedas better for her people. Quietly, she enjoys the discomfort her visage causes nobility when she's at events or summits. Let them stare!

The two years to Trespasser changes her for the better. She was more involved in the Inquisitions' politics, and spent a lot of time with Josie "making up for her past failures." The straw that pushed her this direction was failing Clan Lavellan. Truly, it meant what remained of the Inquisition was all she had for a clan, and she threw herself at it wholeheartedly.

Buried beneath her bitterness and anger, she still loves that stupid egg. Her feelings come from a mix of mortification at feeling so thoroughly manipulated tempered by the hope that what they actually felt was real. She dreams of his kisses and touch, even when she's at the peak of embitterment. Somehow, this is both a frustration and a comfort to her.

Leading Up to Veilguard

The eight years that pass between DAI and DAV are spent thrown at the remains of the Inquisition. She works to pare down their reach and operate in a way Leliana found most appealing—as more of an infiltration and intelligence force than a major military power.

This eventually drives a wedge between her and Cullen, who leaves earlier than he might have after the events of Trespasser, as they do not see eye to eye on most decisions anymore.

She still sends letters to Josie whenever she can, often asking for advice that she wishes she'd learned from her earlier in her role as the Inquisitor. Josie humors her, but only in exchange for the occasional visit and well-to-do events that she knows Aliana only stomachs for her sake.

She keeps regular contact with Cass, given that she now effectively reports to her station of Divine. When they can, they steal away from the stiff trappings of their roles to exchange less formal information—like which issue of the Randy Dowager is the best, or to discuss the latest romance novel they've dug up.

She goes through a bout of depression after losing her arm, as she can't hold her bow anymore, and feels utterly at a loss. Dagna eventually fits her with the prosthesis she has in Veilguard, but by then, she's become terribly rusty, and her aim is never quite the same.

This is when she turns to study, especially that of her culture, emerging information from the Dread Wolf's activities, and study of the Elvhen language. She spends time creating ciphers for Leliana's agents, and keeping her wits sharp.

It takes her at least five years, but the anger and hurt Solas inflicted eventually fades to a dullness. Instead, she pushes to better understand his motives, desires, and intents. Arguably, it becomes an obsession, rooted in the need to know whether or not anything for her lingers in his heart.

Once Varric, Harding, and Rook have the lead on Solas, she starts to have a lot more trouble concentrating on her other duties. Eventually, she has to make an agreement with Leliana to exchange Dread Wolf cell information for the information she's still able to get by playing the Inquisitor role in court.

She absolutely, 100% gave an interview to the writer of that Randy Dowager piece and even provided editorial feedback. Cassandra and Varric may or may not have also been involved. She conscripts one of Leliana's spies to drop it in the lap of one of the Dread Wolf's spies they've identified, because fucking with him at this point is all she's got.

I think this covers most of my head canons for Aliana leading into Veilguard, which leaves me prime in a place to actually be able to write some content around her. So consider this my Aliana/Inky bible, and strap in - I'm gonna write some STUFF.

#dragon age inquisition #dragon age veilguard #spoilers #dai spoilers #veilguard spoilers #Aliana Lavellan #inquisitor lavellan #solavellan #solavellan hell #solas x female lavellan #My Lavellan is a trash person too #She is unrefined and will fight you about it #She's equal parts ready to berate and jump Solas the moment she gets her hands on him #Maybe both at the same time

6 notes · View notes

droids-in-disguise · 1 year ago

Text

Favorite Books I've Read in 2023 (so far)

So fun fact I read a lot, here are my top 10 books that I’ve read so far this year, in the order I read them. Never really posted this sort of thing on tumblr before but I thought I’d give it a try.

Book details and some of my thoughts under the cut.

A Thousand Steps Into Night by Traci Chee (2022)

YA Fantasy

A Thousand Steps Into Night is a book I 100% picked up because of the cover and because it was super cheap. I hadn’t ever heard anything about the book or author. The best way I can describe this novel is that reading it conjured up the same feelings that I get from watching a Ghibli film. Our protagonist Miuko is an ordinary girl from a small village until one day she is cursed and slowly begins transforming into a demon. Hoping to find a way to break the curse, she begins to travel the land meeting lots of colorful characters, gods, and mythic figures along the way. It’s a very atmospheric and wonderfully written book that pulls a lot of inspiration from Japanese mythology and folklore

A Restless Truth by Freya Marske (2022)

Romance/Fantasy

This is the second book in the Last Binding trilogy. I feel like you could probably get away with skipping the first book if you wanted to since both books are somewhat self-contained, but why would you? The first book (A Marvellous Light) is awesome. Our story takes place in an alternate-Edwardian England where magic is real and certain people can practice it, unbeknownst to the rest of the non-magical population. Maud Blyth, a non-magical person who has the privilege of knowing about magic, is working with members of the magical community as well as her brother (the protagonist from the first book) to prevent a dangerous magical contract form falling into the wrong hands. She is travelling on an ocean liner when the old woman in her care ends up dead. Cue the murder mystery shenanigans and sapphic romance!

Kiss Her Once for Me by Alison Cochrun (2022)

Romance

I actually read this book twice this year, once by myself and once for my book club. It has what is quite possibly one of the most bonkers rom-com plots I’ve ever seen and I love how ridiculous it is. Basically, our main character Ellie meets a women in Powell’s books and they have a magical, Christmas one-night-stand. Fast forward almost one year later, Ellie is having a difficult time out here in good-old Portland, OR after getting fired from her dream job and having to instead rough it as a barista. In a last-ditch effort to not lose her apartment, she agrees to marry her job’s landlord so he can get his inheritance and Ellie gets a percentage in exchange. However, it turns out that her one-night-stand from last year is her new fake-fiancé’s sister. GASP! The only place this book loses points for me is that there’s too many goddamn Taylor Swift references.

The Darkness Outside Us by Eliot Schrefer (2021)

YA Sci-Fi

If I had to pick a favorite out of all these books it would be this one. Reading this book felt like getting hit by a bus. Our POV character is Ambrose Cusk, an astronaut aboard the Coordinated Endeavor who has been sent on a mission into deep space to rescue his sister. His only companion is another boy named Kodiak who comes from a rival nation (think Cold War-ear space race). As they slowly start to interact with one another it becomes clear that for some reason neither one of them have any memory of the ship’s launch. The only knowledge they have of what’s going on comes from the ship’s internal computer and infrequent communications from Earth. As they begin to investigate, they discover a lot more than they bargained for. The first half of this book is like your typical gay space adventures and then at like the 50% mark onwards the rug gets pulled out from under you and you just have to go WHAT THE FUCK and then when you finish the book you just have to pretend like you’re fine and can move on with your life (you can’t). My only complaint is that this book should not have been YA, like there’s absolutely 0 reason for it to be.

Firekeeper’s Daughter by Angeline Boulley (2021)

YA Thriller

This book was unexpected for me. I have a habit of just reading books I know absolutely nothing about because someone, somewhere said it was good and because I think the cover is pretty. For some reason I assumed this would be a fantasy book but it’s actually a thriller/mystery novel, which is not at all a genre I typically go for. Our main character, Daunis Fontaine, is a biracial Ojibwe girl who loves hockey and her community. Her status as an unenrolled member of her tribe has her stuck with a foot in each world. After a family tragedy, circumstances push her to agree to work undercover with the FBI in order to find the source of a dangerous substance that has infiltrated her community and threatens the lives of those she cares about. I found Daunis to be an extremely compelling character with a strong narrative voice. Watching all the layers of the mystery getting peeled away through her investigation was extremely satisfying. She uses mainstream scientific knowledge in tandem with more tribal specific knowledge of botany and medicine in order to figure things out, which I thought was super cool. This is another book where I feel like it could’ve gotten away with not being YA, but I don’t feel as strongly about it as I do in regards to The Darkness Outside Us.

In the Lives of Puppets by TJ Klune (2023)

Sci-fi

Where to even begin this one… Have you ever wanted a book that was partly a story about a robot found family on post-apocalyptic Earth and partly a Pinocchio retelling? Yeah me either, but I’m so glad I got it. Victor Lawson is a human raised by robots. He has a peaceful existence with his android father and other mechanical friends until his curiosity unknowingly alerts robots from his father’s former life to their existence. Vic’s father is captured and it’s up to the rest of the family to rescue him. Victor is also asexual and how he describes and navigates his asexuality was so similar to my own it was like looking in a mirror.

Hijab Butch Blues by Lamya H. (2023)

Memoir

This was a wonderful memoir about a queer Muslim as she reconciles those two pieces of her identity, and the struggles she faces finding community. Growing up religious, there were a lot of experiences in this memoir that I personally related to. Something I really enjoyed is how the author retold stories from the Quran and used them to frame her own queer experiences. There was a lot about this book that was very comforting to me, and I feel like it was written in a way that was accessible and easy to understand.

Black Sun (and by extension it’s sequel, Fevered Star) by Rebecca Roanhorse (2020/2022)

Fantasy

Black Sun is the first book in the Between Earth and Sky trilogy, an epic fantasy series with a world inspired by pre-colonial American civilizations. This series has such a large and complex cast of characters, with chapters from multiple POVs, so it’s impossible to say if there is really any one protagonist. Essentially, the upcoming solar eclipse foretells the return of the crow god and the unbalancing of the status quo that has previously been maintained by an order of priests. Some characters are working to make sure this comes to pass, some hope to prevent it, and some aren’t quite sure where their loyalties lie. By the end of the first chapter I already knew I was in for a wild ride (the book opens on a mother sewing her 12-year old son’s eyes shut, ew). This series also features a queernormative world, where non-binary characters and same-gender relationships are commonplace.

This Poison Heart by Kalynn Bayron (2021)

YA Fantasy

This book was so cool and really had a lot going for it. Briseis Greene has the uncanny ability to grow and control plants. She and her two moms live in Brooklyn where they run a flower shop. One day, a visitor arrives to tell Bri that she has inherited an old country estate in upstate NY from her birth family. Bri wonders if this house could be the answer to her family’s financial woes and so they travel upstate where Bri begins to learn more about her abilities and her family’s history. Every answered question leads to dozens more unanswered and between strange individuals wandering the estate, townspeople who seem to know secrets, and increasing instances of violence and vandalism, Bri begins ask herself if staying here is worth it if it means her family might be in danger. This book is a queer, mythology inspired, part urban fantasy, part thriller/haunted house story, of a modern fairytale. Truly something in it for everyone.

#books #a thousand steps into night #a restless truth #kiss her once for me #the darkness outside us #firekeeper's daughter #in the lives of puppets #hijab butch blues #black sun #fevered star #this poison heart

39 notes · View notes